The historical record preserves this poet’s work, but little is known of their life. Further details will be added as sources emerge.
The Foe at the Gates.–Charleston
John Dickson Bruns, M.D.
Ring round her! children of her gloridus skies,
Whom she hath nursed to stature proud and great;
Catch one last glance from her imploring eyes,
O, Tempora! O, Mores!
John Dickson Bruns, M.D.
“Great Pan is dead!” so cried an airy tongue
To one who, drifting down Calabria’s shore,
Heard the last knell, in starry midnight rung,
Our Christmas Hymn
John Dickson Bruns, M.D.
“Good-will and peace! peace and good-will!”
The burden of the Advent song,
What time the love-charmed waves grew still