Frontispiece
Topics: classic
And 'mid the awful stillness Of their grave, The forest oaks have flourished And the breath Of years hath swept their races, Wave on wave, As ages fainted On the shores of death. The tumbling cliff perchance Hath thundered deep, Like a rough note Of music in the song Of centuries, and the whirlwind's Crushing sweep, Hath ploughed the forest With its furrows strong.
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"And 'mid the awful stillness..."
"Frontispiece" is a quintessential example of Samuel Griswold Goodrich's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...