The Banners of the Coast (Classic Reprint) - Tapa blanda

Rutledge, Archibald

 
9781331473039: The Banners of the Coast (Classic Reprint)

Sinopsis

Excerpt from The Banners of the Coast

By the sweet plantations old, where the silence seems to fold Forms of Beauty in caresses with a love that is not told, By the faces that are sleeping, by the hearts so dim and cold.

About the Publisher

Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com

This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

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Reseña del editor

Excerpt from The Banners of the Coast

By the sweet plantations old, where the silence seems to fold Forms of Beauty in caresses with a love that is not told, By the faces that are sleeping, by the hearts so dim and cold.

About the Publisher

Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com

This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

Reseña del editor

Excerpt from The Banners of the Coast

From out the secret mountain deeps my yearning soul was drawn,
I flow through violet valleys, and by languorous leagues of lawn,
In the beauty of the mountains in the dusk and in the dawn.

There I saw the far blue mountains in the visionary west,
Saw the mist upon the mountains in the opal evening west,
Saw the clouds that labor for me o'er the mountains' misty crest.

Then I journey through the midland where the cotton's in the boll,
Where the stalwart rustling corn-ranks, like an army past control,
March down upon my margin where my waters softly roll.

(Once I saw my queenly City, when the foe had stormed the gate;
Saw my proud, defenceless City, in the brutal hands of fate,
And the land cried out for mercy on Columbia, desolate.)

But the ocean ever calls me in a solemn undertone,
Past the mountains, past the meadows where the waving willows shone,
Past many a pine and cypress standing sentinel alone.

And so I reach the Delta in the quiet closing day;
Through the reaches of the ricefields, stretching mistily away,
I go as a grey spirit through a throng of spirits grey:

About the Publisher

Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com

This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

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