Thomas William Heney Alone Poems
- 1. To The Poet
What cares the rose if the buds which are its pride
Be plucked for the breast of the dead or the hands of a bride?
The mother-drift if its pebbles be dull inglorious things,
... - 2. The Boundary Rider
The bridle reins hang loose in the hold of his lean left hand;
As the tether gives, the horse bends browsing down to the sand,
On the pommel the right hand rests with a smoking briar black,
Whose thin rings rise and break as he gazes from the track.
...
