Explore "Surrender" by Gilbert Parker on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A day of sunshine in a land of snow, / And a soft-curtained room, where ruddy flakes / Of fame fall free, in liquid light that slakes / The soft desire of one cold, paleface: lo,
Close-pressed sweet lips, and eyes of violet, / That are filled up as with a sudden fear -- / A storm's prelude upon the expectant mere.
Yet deep behind what never they forget,
Who ever see in life's chance or mischance.
And he who saw, what could he do but say, / "Fold up the tents; the camp is struck; away!
Vain victor who rides not in rest his lance!"
Beside the hearthstone where the flame-flakes fell, / There lay the cold keys of the citadel.