Richard Chenevix Trench
Richard Chenevix Trench Poems
|2.||To a Robin Redbreast||7/2/2015|
|4.||On Perseus and Medusa||12/10/2015|
|5.||New Year's Eve||12/11/2015|
|7.||On Leaving Rome||8/5/2016|
|8.||After The Battle||1/1/2004|
|10.||The Onward Course||1/1/2004|
|12.||In A Pass Of Bavaria||1/1/2004|
Now the third and fatal conflict for the Persian throne was done,
And the Moslem's fiery valor had the crowning victory won.
Harmosan, the last and boldest the invader to defy,
Captive overborne by numbers, they were bringing forth to die.
Then exclaimed the noble captive: "Lo! I perish in my thirst;
Give me but one drink of water, and let then arrive the worst!"
In his hand he took the goblet, but awhle the draught forbore,
Seeming doubtully the purpose of the foemen to explore.
Well might then have paused the bravest -- for around him angry ...
A garden so well watered before morn
Is hotly up, that not the swart sun's blaze
Down beating with unmitigated rays,
Nor arid winds from scorching places borne,
Shall quite prevail to make it bare and shorn
Of its green beauty -- shall not quite prevail
That all its morning freshness shall exhale,
Till evening and the evening dews return --
A blessing such as this our hearts might reap,