Thomas Aird Poems

Kings from their thrones are hurled.
Beauty is wed to Use.
There lies he on the skirts of the great world,
Undisciplined, aimless, loose,—
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Gray brindled dawn comes up before the sun.
There's health, there's moral healing in the hour
So naked clear, so dewy, dewy cool.
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Oh rise, and sit in soft attire!
Wait but to know my soul's desire!
I'd call thee back to earthly days,
To cheer thee in a thousand ways!
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I

To yon high hills, how fitly stern of stress,
Ezekiel takes the shattered wilderness,
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High rides the summer moon: Away, how slow,
The lordly waters of Euphrates go!
But see! a shadowy form from yonder rank
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Before her cavern stands at evening-tide
Cyra, her harp clear glittering by her side;
Now for the King she looks far east away,
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I

The moon full-orbed came up the east, and shone
Sweetly above the hills of Babylon:
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Forth flames the day. From off his terrace high
The King Chaldean, with a troubled eye,
Long eastward looks; for lo! afar descried,
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Come to the Banquet! Lift your dazzled eyes,
Survey the glory that before you lies!
Far down yon avenue of fainting light,
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“Majestic child of gratitude! this hour
I bid thee ask not half my realm for dower:
I dare not mock thy pure young soul; but say
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