THE PATRIOT.
AN OLD STORY
1.
It was roses, roses, all the way,
With myrtle mixed in my path like mad.
The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway,
The church-spires flamed, such flags they had,
A year ago on this very day!
It was roses, roses, all the way,
With myrtle mixed in my path like mad.
The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway,
The church-spires flamed, such flags they had,
A year ago on this very day!
2.
The air broke into a mist with bells,
The old walls rocked with the crowds and cries.
Had I said, "Good folk, mere noise repels–
But give me your sun from yonder skies!"
They had answered, "And afterward, what else?"
The air broke into a mist with bells,
The old walls rocked with the crowds and cries.
Had I said, "Good folk, mere noise repels–
But give me your sun from yonder skies!"
They had answered, "And afterward, what else?"
