Sir John Hanmer

Sir John Hanmer Poems

Thus said the young Alexowitz, by Danube's sweeping side,
A hundred chiefs their vassals rule, in pomp and power, and pride;
...

Clear shines the sun, but yet the cloud is grey,
And the fresh breeze comes scented with the spray
Of the wild billow, that with thundering fall,
...

'Credite me vobis folium recitare Sibyllæ.'

What, shall nought e'er be sacred, nought evade
The prying imp that pierces every shade,
...

Last night our Abbot blessed his saint
As he knelt before his tomb,
And tapers from the altar quaint,
Looked out o'er the cloister's gloom;
...

From Venice, while the moonlight falls
Brightest o'er her porphyry halls,
Gilding with unearthly ray,
Dome and column, worn and grey,
...

Haste! mother, haste! smoke blackens the blue sky,
Pescara comes, oh, whither shall we fly?
I see his band beyond those olive trees,
...

The devil he marshalled his legions gay,
That he hoped would rule the world,
He dressed them all in bright array,
And then his flag unfurled.
...

Where thy fane, time-riven,
Crowns the marble hill,
And sailing up the heaven,
Thy crescent decks it still;
...

Sir John Hanmer Biography

Hanmer was the son of Thomas Hanmer, eldest son of Sir Thomas Hanmer, 2nd Baronet. His mother was Arabella Charlotte, daughter of T. S. D. Bucknell. His siblings included: * Charlotte Emma Hanmer * Thomas Hanmer * Margaret Maria Hanmer (wife of Richard Baker Wingfield-Baker, MP) * Caroline Hanmer * John Hanmer * Sir Wyndham Edward Hanmer, 4th Bt. * Reverend Henry Hanmer He was educated at Eton and Christ Church, Oxford. In 1828 he succeeded his grandfather as third Baronet.)

The Best Poem Of Sir John Hanmer

Alexowitz

Thus said the young Alexowitz, by Danube's sweeping side,
A hundred chiefs their vassals rule, in pomp and power, and pride;
While I, whose lordly sires bore sway, o'er wide Croatia's ban,
Now stand within their roofless halls a lone and landless man.


But think not I am come to mourn o'er hopes that flew away,
Like morning stars at dawning bright, but vanished with the day,
I come but on their threshold to whet my father's sword,
If fiefs and friends are mine no more, of that I still am lord:


I come to twine old memories with the hope of future days,
And link the phantom of their fame, with that which I will raise;
And if my cloak is scanty, and the winter wind is cold,
I'll think of how it howls in thee, my lost ancestral hold.


The Baron rides in coat of mail, the Churchman robed in fur,
And this must watch through vigils pale, and that the war-horse spur;
And what have they that I have not? high place and proud degree,
As high as their's, nor all forgot, once more my name may be.


I'll rear it by the banks of Rhine, in joyous Allemayne,
I'll rear it in thy gorgeous court, oh double-sceptred Spain;
For like the wind that wanders where it lists, a voice within,
Cries come with me, as bold as free, nor doubt while others win.

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