Blackstone Manor
Hounds whelp at the walls
Of old Blackstone Manor
on the moor, through the fog
A candlelit window
Lady’s soft whispers
A call to her love
Come back to me, Darling
From Majuba Hill
in the land of Transvaal
In South Africa
I wait for you here
While the fire’s still burning
Many years later
I still see you, lover
Officer’s sabre and buttons of gold
I know you fought bravely
My young handsome lover
I know that another
Will soon come to call
2007-11-29
02:01:27
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5 answers
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asked by
Anonymous
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry
How strange are we talking? I just got suspended, so yes, I'm mad at the world.
2007-11-29
02:21:09 ·
update #1