Roden Berkeley Wriothesley Noel
Roden Berkeley Wriothesley Noel Poems
|82.||Ode To England||4/22/2010|
|83.||Ah! Love Ye One Another Well!||4/22/2010|
|84.||The Polish Mother: A Dramatic Monologue||4/22/2010|
|85.||The Death Of Livingstone||4/22/2010|
|88.||Ballad Of The Dead Monk; Or, Brother Benedict||4/22/2010|
|91.||The Explorer In Africa||4/22/2010|
Comments about Roden Berkeley Wriothesley Noel
The Explorer In Africa
Yet mine are higher, holier purposes;
For I will cleave this darkling continent,
As with a sword of intellectual light;
Lead these lost children to a living Father,
And tell them of a Brother who has died.
Yea, if my nature's weakness have rebell'd
Against what seems the world's indifference;
Men treading their unarduous wonted round
Of common care, oblivious of mine,
Who battle alone, afar from all; who waste,
Ignobly sinking here in sight of goal,
For bitter need of help I hoped from men,
At leisure in their calm abounding homes;
Bales for exchange or ...
THEY are waiting on the shore
For the bark to take them home:
They will toil and grieve no more;
The hour for release hath come.
All their long life lies behind
Like a dimly blending dream:
There is nothing left to bind
To the realms that only seem.