Old fathers, great-grandfathers, Rise as kindred should. If ever lover`s loneliness Came where you stood, Pray that Heaven protect us That protect your blood. The mountain throws a shadow, Thin is the moon`s horn; What did we remember Under the ragged thorn? Dread has followed longing, And our hearts are torn.SourceThe script ran 0 seconds.
The script ran 0 seconds.