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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=584361" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>XI: To Miss Adelaide Kemble,</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=584361" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">ON HER APPROACHING RETIREMENT FROM THE STAGE. (DECEMBER, 1842.)</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=584361" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">If Time has doom'd the triumphs of thy race<br>With loss of thee-the youngest and the last-<br>To take majestic station in the Past,<br>We thank thee that thy fleeting hours embrace<br>Some hint of all its glories;-bid us trace<br>In thy proud action the unconquer'd will<br>Of the great Roman; own once more a thrill<br>Akin to that which blanch'd the childish face<br>At Siddons' whisper; bless the honest grace<br>Which the true heart of chivalry should still<br>Shed o'er thy father's brow;-consoled that all,<br>Thus waning into memory, grow more sweet,<br>And make their last expressions musical,<br>To live while any heart they hush shall beat.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Thomas+Noon+Talfourd">Thomas Noon Talfourd</a></strong></div>

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