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CHANCELLOR’S PRIZE POEMS:

THE TOWER OF LONDON

CAUBUL

CÆSAR'S INVASION OF BRITAIN .

287

299

313

THE TWO BROTHERS.

Εύδουσα γαρ φρών όμμασιν λαμπρύνεται. .

Æsch. Eum.

ARE the embers smouldering, brother? Think not to re

vive their light. Brother, I've a tale to tell thee I can better tell at night: And their faint dun glow will glimmer till, perchance, my

tale is done. List! that dull and heavy sound - it is the church-bell

pealing “one.Strangely through the sere elm forests come the fitful gusts

of wind, Strangely on the casement beats the hollow drifting rain

behind; Night broods round, a wall of darkness, such as moonThirteen summers have waved round us, thirteen winters

beams cannot scale, And the blessed stars are blunted like a shaft from coat of

mail.

shower'd their snows, Thirteen springs danced by, and thirteen autumns pass'd

like music's close, Since I witness'd gloom like this, wherein the stoutest

heart would melt: Thick close darkness on our eyelids weighing - darkness

that is felt. Oh, the memory of that midnight, spectre-like, within me

sleeps; If I only gaze, it rises dimly from my spirit's deeps Rises with the sere elm forests struck by fitful gusts of

wind, And the hollow drifting raindrops on the casement close

behind : Every wind-moan finds an echo in my moaning heart within, And the rain is not as dewdrops to a soul once scarr'd with

sin.

Brother, thou wert ever to me as a young and golden mist Floating through blue liquid heavens, with the morning

sunlight kiss'd; Which the eye looks up and blesses, lingering on its track

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