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Richard Chenevix Trench (Ричард Ченевикс Тренч) The Island of Madeira Though never axe until a later day Assailed thy forests’ huge antiquity, Yet elder Fame had many tales of thee-- Whether Phœnician shipman far astray Had brought uncertain notices away Of islands dreaming in the middle sea; Or that man’s heart, which struggles to be free From the old worn-out world, had never stay Till, for a place to rest on, it had found A region out of ken, that happier isle, Which the mild ocean breezes blow around, Where they who thrice upon this mortal stage Had kept their hands from wrong, their hearts from guile, Should come at length, and live a tearless age. Richard Chenevix Trench's other poems:
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