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Andrew Lang - Ballade Of His BooksAndrew Lang - Ballade Of His Books
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Here stand my books, line upon line They reach the roof, and row by row, They speak of faded tastes of mine, And things I did, but do not, know: Old school books, useless long ago, Old Logics, where the spirit, railed in, Could scarcely answer "yes" or "no" - The many things I`ve tried and failed in! Here`s Villon, in morocco fine, (The Poet starved, in mud and snow,) Glatigny does not crave to dine, And Rene`s tears forget to flow. And here`s a work by Mrs. Crowe, With hosts of ghosts and bogies jailed in; Ah, all my ghosts have gone below - The many things I`ve tried and failed in! He`s touched, this mouldy Greek divine, The Princess D`Este`s hand of snow; And here the arms of D`Hoym shine, And there`s a tear-bestained Rousseau: Here`s Carlyle shrieking "woe on woe" (The first edition, this, he wailed in); I once believed in him--but oh, The many things I`ve tried and failed in! ENVOY. Prince, tastes may differ; mine and thine Quite other balances are scaled in; May you succeed, though I repine - "The many things I`ve tried and failed in!"
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