The Old Maids Story

Ay, many and many a year’s gone by,

Since the dawn of that day in spring,

When we met in the pine-woods, Harry and I,

And he gave me this golden ring.

I had lovers in plenty, of high degree,

Who wooed in my father’s hall;

But none were so noble and brave as he,

Though he was the scorn’d of all.

On the soft, green grass, where the shadows lay,

All fleck’d with the sun and dew,

With a ring and a kiss did we seal, that day,

Our vow to be leal and true.

‘Twas a life-long vow;-but they did not know-

And they thought not of love or pain;-

We met just once in the sleet and snow-

We were never to meet again!

He was sent away o’er the blank, wide sea,

And I, with my hopes and fears,

Had never a message to comfort me

For over a score of years.

They laugh’d at my heart, they paraded my hand,

But I answer’d them, cold and grim-

“If Harry ne’er comes to his native land,

They shall only belong to him.”

At last came a tale from the battle-field;-

And they were not scornful now.

The sentence of exile might be repealed-

They would honour our plighted vow!

They told how my Harry, like olden knights,

Had fought for his land and Queen;

Fought hard and well on the Alma heights,

Where the deadliest strife was seen.

They told how he fell in the fire and smoke,

And they gave me his things to keep;

They wonder’d why I never cried or spoke,-

But it was too late to weep.

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Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus

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Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• I Heard You, Solemn-sweet Pipes of the Organ. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• I hear it was Charged against Me. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• I Hear America Singing. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• I Dream’d in a Dream. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• I am He that Aches with Love. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Hush’d be the Camps To-day. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• How Solemn as One by One. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Hours Continuing Long. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Here the Frailest Leaves of Me. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Here, Sailor. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Hast Never Come to Thee an Hour. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Great are the Myths. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Gods. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Gliding Over All. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Give me the Splendid, Silent Sun. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Germs. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Full of Life, Now. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• From Paumanok Starting. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• From My Last Years. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• From Far Dakota’s Cañons. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman

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Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.

Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

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