Hark! from yon sacred tower Comes chiming the evening bell, And its tones fall soft around me, As the music I love so well ... The past will rise before me, Fond memory will not rest, And my brain is filled with fancies That may not be expressed. ... upon my soul; With no slavish fear to bind me a#39;Neath its withering, stern control; With a conscience bearing witness, .... The blue of the army we derived from the Puritans, of the navy from the colors of a mistress of George I- Notes and Queries.
|Title||:||Gleason's Pictorial Drawing-room Companion|