Thomas Bailey Aldrich(November 11, 1836 - March 19, 1907 / Portsmouth, New Hampshire)
- by Thomas Bailey Aldrich200
The smooth-worn coin and threadbare classic phrase Of Grecian myths that did beguile my youth, Beguile me not as in the olden days: I think more grief and beauty dwell with truth. Andromeda, in fetters by the sea, Star-pale with anguish till young Perseus came, Less moves me with her suffering than she, The slim girl figure fettered to dark shame, That nightly haunts the park, there, like a shade, Trailing her wretchedness from street to street. See where she passes -- neither wife nor maid; How all mere fiction crumbles at her feet! Here is woe's self, and not the mask of woe: A legend's shadow shall not move you so!
- by Thomas Bailey Aldrich80
Thus spake his dust (so seemed it as I read The words): Good friend, for Jesus' sake forbeare (Poor ghost!) To digg the dust enclosèd heare -- Then came the malediction on the head Of whoso dare disturb the sacred dead. Outside the mavis whistled strong and clear, The winding Avon murmured in its bed, But in the solemn Stratford church the air Was chill and dank, and on the foot-worn tomb The evening shadows deepened momently. Then a great awe fell on me, standing there, As if some speechless presence in the gloom Was hovering, and fain would speak with me.
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