Poem by Louisa Sarah Bevington

Dedication to C.A.V.

Not that the theme is worthy, nor the lay
    Such as your heart would have, one time in three;
    Yet, battling, I would chaunt of victory
All life's night through: though dubious dream of day
Scarcely suffices me to shed one ray
    O'er the fierce field where you must fighting be;--
    Yet you have brought a little sword to me
Of strange new metal that I would essay.

And thanks are due. So thank I you in songs,
    And having sung, my turn me hence, to strive
    What time strength stays with me--alert, alive,
    To right some trifle of the night's dumb wrongs;
    And if through minstrelsy one plea may thrive,
To you memorial gratitude belongs. 

1. The Poet’s Tear
2. “Merle Wood”
3. Unperfected
4. Revolution
5. O Ye Joys!

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