Mastor |
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Author:
| Larus, John Ruse |
ISBN: | 978-0-217-51178-0 |
Publication Date: | Aug 2009 |
Publisher: | General Books LLC
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Book Format: | Paperback |
List Price: | USD $14.14 |
Book Description:
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Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: mastor sings: Forth from the storm-king's bow of cloudy splendor The lightning-arrows fly, Piercing with shafts of splintered flame the tender And throbbing bosom of the sky. A Titan-cloud upon the walls of Heaven Levels his ashen spear, And from his mighty blows the forests riven, Recoil in trembling...
More DescriptionPurchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: mastor sings: Forth from the storm-king's bow of cloudy splendor The lightning-arrows fly, Piercing with shafts of splintered flame the tender And throbbing bosom of the sky. A Titan-cloud upon the walls of Heaven Levels his ashen spear, And from his mighty blows the forests riven, Recoil in trembling fear. His sable mail is wreathed with flame, and madly He rushes to the fight, While in the gale the trees are chanting sadly The wedding march of Storm and Night. The Sun with the Day returneth, Hand in hand from the East they come, And a breeze from the Morn's gates churneth The daisies into foam. The ranks of the Titans rally In vain to the deadly fray, And far over mountain and valley They flee from the spears of Day. But the oaks and the pines and the larches Lie prone on the deep-scarred ground, And rocks from the mountain arches Have fallen in dust around. So the tempest of Sorrow flieth Before Joy's Favonian wind; But though with Day's birth it dieth, It leaveth its wrack behind. FAUSTINA. Still sorrow, sorrow 't is the burden of Thine every song. Mastor. And of my life. FAUSTINA. Oh fool Fool who hast Pleasure leaning on thy breast, And will not draw her closer to thy heart. Feel how my yellow hair entwines thy throat; Look how thine image dwells within mine eyes Hear how my voice trembles with longing love. Before this day's dawn came I looked upon The Earth from yonder casement, and I saw The Night put off her glowing zone of stars, And pluck the crescent diadem out from Her tresses, once a wealth of raven locks, Now gray and scanty. From the Orient wave The morning-star rose, Venus-like, and played With trembling fingers with the hoary beard Of grim Poseidon. With slow, faltering ste...