Classic Poem

AS " SIR GILES. "

Ne'er yet have passions with fierce pangs intense,
Loomed up so grandly livid, to defy
With withering hate the awed and hollow sky
As thine! they haunt the hot and harrowed sense

With throes of wonder; from mad lips thy cry
Of rage, turns foam in its magnificence
Of utter anguish, while thy lurid eye
Glints through its blood in agonies immense!

Thou King of Tragedy, unique, superb!
What triumph thine to force strong wills to start!
How sweet for thee to see the masses curb
Their tremulous heads all haloed by thine art!
And feel the power the skeptic to disturb;
Thou peer of Garrick with a Talma's heart!

AS " SIR GILES. "

Ne'er yet have passions with fierce pangs intense,
Loomed up so grandly livid, to defy
With withering hate the awed and hollow sky,
As thine! They haunt the hot and harrowed sense

With throes of wonder; from mad lips thy cry
Of rage, turns foam in its magnificence
Of utter anguish, while thy lurid eye
Glints through its blood in agonies immense!

Thou King of Tragedy, unique, superb!
What triumph thine to force strong wills to start!
How sweet for thee to see the masses curb
Their tremulous heads all haloed by thine art!
And fell the power the skeptic to disturb,
Thou peer of Garrick with a Talma's heart!