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From: Silcox <imp...@br...> - 2010-01-10 21:02:12
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Sic that may vex the high repose Of a heart that fades and crumbles as the crimson of a rose. _The King_ They rode right out of the morning sun-- A glimmering, glittering cavalcade Of knights and ladies and every one In princely sheen arrayed; And the king of them all, O he rode ahead, With a helmet of gold, and a plume of red That spurted about in the breeze and bled In the bloom of the everglade. And they rode high over the dewy lawn, With brave, glad banners of every hue That rolled in ripples, as they rode on In splendor, two and two; And the tinkling links of the golden reins Of the steeds they rode rang such refrains As the castanets in a dream of Spain's Intensest gold and blue. And they rode and rode; and the steeds they neighed And pranced, and the sun on their glossy hides Flickered and lightened and glanced and pl |