Thomas Kibble Hervey Quotes
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Wake, soldier wake, thy war-horse waits To bear thee to the battle back;-- Thou slumberest at a foeman's gates,-- Thy dog would break thy bivouac; Thy plume is trailing in the dust, And thy red falchion gathering rust.
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I know thou art gone to the home of thy rest-- Then why should my soul be so sad? I know thou art gone where the weary are blest, And the mourner looks up, and is glad; I know thou hast drank of the Lethe that flows In a land where they do not forget, That sheds over memory only repose, And takes from it only regret.
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He stood beside a cottage lone And listened to a lute, One summer's eve, when the breeze was gone, And the nightingale was mute.
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Morn on the waters, and purple and bright Bursts on the billows the flushing of light O'er the glad waves, like a child of the sun, See the tall vessel goes gallantly on.
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A Hebrew knelt in the dying light, His eye was dim and cold; The hairs on his brow were silver white, And his blood was thin and old.
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