New Collected Rhymes by Andrew Lang
page 48 of 63 (76%)
page 48 of 63 (76%)
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Salmacis, when boune a Maying,
Tall as any poplar tree, Sweet as apple blossoms be! Had the Amazonian Queen Seen thee 'midst thy maiden peers, Thou the Coronel hadst been Of that lady's Grenadiers; Troy had never mourned her fall, With thine axe to guard her wall. As Penthesilea brave Is the maiden (in her dreams); Ilium she well might save, Though Achilles' armour gleams, 'Midst the Greeks; all vain it is, 'Gainst the glance of Salmacis! WHAT FRANCESCO SAID OF THE JUBILEE--BY R. B. What if we call it fifty years! 'Tis steep! To climb so high a gradient? Prate of Guides? Are we not roped? The Danger? Nay, the Turf, No less nor more than mountain peaks, my friend, Hears talk of Roping,--but the Jubilee! Nay, there you have me: old Francesco once |
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