Long in misery
I wasted, ere in one extremest fit
I plung'd for life or death.
Long in misery
I wasted, ere in one extremest fit
I plung'd for life or death.
Yet it is strange, and sad, alas!
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home She stood in tears amid the alien corn The same that ofttimes hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
O Sorrow, Why dost borrow Heart's lightness from the merriment of May
O spectres busy in a cold, cold gloom!
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories