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Old Spookses' Pass, Malcolm's Katie, and other poems by Isabella Valancy Crawford
page 122 of 243 (50%)

"And in long ages yet to sweep
Their gloom and glory on the day;
When mould'ring kings, forgot, shall sleep
In ashes, dust, and clay:

"Thy name shall, starlike, pulse and burn
On heights most Godlike; and divine,
Immortal bays thy funereal urn
Shall lastingly entwine!"

He sigh'd; perchance he felt the thrill,
The answ'ring pulse to Fame's high call;
But answer made his steadfast will--
"I will not be thy thrall!"

Again there came the voice and cried:
"Dost thou my kingly bribes disdain?
Yet shalt thou barter soul and pride
For things ignobly vain!

"Two shameless eyes--two false, sweet eyes--
A sinful brow of sinless white,
Shall hurl, thy soul from high clear skies
To ME, and Stygian night.

"Beneath the spell of gilded hair,
Thy palms, like sickly weeds, shall die!
God-strong Resolves, a sensuous air
Shall mock and crucify.
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