Y ways remote and distant waters sped,Brother, to thy sad grave-side am I come,That I may give the last gifts to the dead,And vainly parley with thine ashes dumb :Since she who now bestows and now deniesHath taen thee, hapless brother, from mine eyes. But lo! these gifts, the heirlooms of past…
English literature · Literature, Modern · Art
Internet Archive · Philadelphia Museum of Art · Public Domain Mark 1.0. Free to use for anything.
