Angelus Mortis

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, 

And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed; 

And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, 

And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!

(Lord Byron)

On A Day Such As This

On a day such as this when spring is loud

In skies azure blue and emerald glistening,
Memories stir of that which I am proud;
My place, people and past. Who's listening?

For now they are gone, and a ruin stands
Where once life curled upward from altars
In sweet-smelling billows across the lands
Of my fading forefathers. Who do I call to

On a day such as this
Where robins fly?
What I silently miss
Is that ghostly cry:

"Englalandum!"