Trumpets die in the loud parade, The gray mist drinks the spears; Banners of glory sink and fade In the dust of a thousand years. Singers of pride the silence stills, The ghost of empire goes, But a song still lives in the ancient hills, And the scent of a vanished rose. Ride with us on a dim, lost road To the dawn of a distant day, When swords were bare for a guerdon rare. —The Flower of Black Cathay.
Langue Anglais ● Format EPUB ● ISBN 9781531294953 ● Taille du fichier 0.5 MB ● Maison d’édition Endymion Press ● Publié 2018 ● Téléchargeable 24 mois ● Devise EUR ● ID 6175449 ● Protection contre la copie sans