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Songs
of the Common Day, and Ave!
An
Ode for the Shelley Centenary
by
Charles G.D. Roberts
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BLOMIDON
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THIS
is that black rock bastion, based in surge,
Pregnant with agate
and with amethyst,
Whose foot the tides of storied Minas scourge,
Whose top austere
withdraws into its mist.
This is that ancient cape of tears and storm,
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Whose
towering front inviolable frowns
O'er vales Evangeline and love keep warm—
Whose fame thy song,
O tender singer, crowns.
Yonder, across these reeling fields of foam,
Came the sad threat
of the avenging ships.
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What
profit now to know if just the doom,
Though harsh! The
streaming eyes, the praying lips,
The shadow of inextinguishable pain,
The poet's deathless music—these remain! |
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