Richard Henry Wilde Poems

WINGED mimic of the woods! thou motley fool!
Who shall thy gay buffoonery describe?
Thine ever ready notes of ridicule
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FAREWELL, my more than fatherland!
Home of my heart and friends, adieu!
Lingering beside some foreign strand,
How oft shall I remember you!
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My life is like the summer rose.
That opens to the morning sky,
But, ere the shades of evening close,
Is scattered on the ground to die!
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