|The character on the right returns in Age of Bronze #34.
Recently while doing some research for a completely different project, I serendipitously came across a poem printed in the May 29, 1904, issue of The Chicago Tribune. The poem's viewpoint character is the one returning in the next issue of Age of Bronze. So I thought I'd offer that poem here, along with a penciled panel featuring the character.
The Chicago Tribune failed to credit the author of this poem. But a little research showed that it was written by Ethel Clifford.
Here in the dark I sit and dream your face,
And in the burning darkness say your name;
And wish my life once more was void of you,
And knew again the days before you came.
So small my kingdom was, and set about
With walls of limit; but the sun shone in,
That never shines now through the mists of rain
With which the days end and the days begin.
So short my little singing space in time,
But very glad the songs that were my part--
My tree of happiness stands brown and dead,
The birds are flown that sang within my heart.
You knocked a little while at my heart's gate
Till, fain to give, I opened it in haste,
And through the door so joyously set wide
You entered in and laid my kingdom waste.
Copyright © 2016 Eric Shanower. All rights reserved.