Doubt (Patience Worth Poems)
Like to a thief who wrappeth himWithin the night-tide's robe,So standeth the specter o' the Earth;Yea, he doth robe him ...
Like to a thief who wrappeth himWithin the night-tide's robe,So standeth the specter o' the Earth;Yea, he doth robe him ...
"Man dieth and wasteth away, And where is he?"--Hark! from the skiesI hear a voice answer and say, "The spirit of man ...
DEATH OF LEMMINKAINEN.Lemminkainen, much disheartened,Deeply thought and long considered,What to do, what course to follow,Whether best to leave the wild-mooseIn ...
Evening and morning, midnight and mid noon,For twice five lustres, this my cell hath been,My pleasure-house and prison.—I did swear,Kissing ...
By Nebo's lonely mountain, On this side Jordan's wave, In a vale in the land ...
Woman, what is't you bury here In earth which is ...
Here in the silence cometh unto me A song that is not mine,With ...
You have taken back the promiseThat you spoke so long ago;Taken back the heart you gave me-I must even let ...
Hollow a grave where the willows wave,And lay him under the grasses,Where the pitying breeze bloweth up from the seas,And ...
I.WEEP not for him that dieth-- For he sleeps, and is at rest; And the couch whereon he lieth Is ...
When the merry lark doth gildWith his song the summer hours,And their nests the swallows buildIn the roofs and tops ...
THE world, that all contains, is ever moving; The stars within their spheres forever turn'd; Nature, the queen of change, ...
Cupid, thou naughty boy, when thou wert loathed, Naked and blind, for vagabonding noted, Thy nakedness I in my reason ...
Dark loom the ghauts against the stream and sky; The smoke doth rise and wind in columns grey;Red flare the ...
Never the long wind dieth, Never, never, But sigheth, crieth, In its old endeavor, Where the ...
Yes, the Year is growing old, And his eye is pale and bleared! Death, with frosty hand and cold, Plucks ...
THE PROLOGUE. The Sompnour in his stirrups high he stood, Upon this Friar his hearte was so wood,* *furious That ...
Mine own John Poynz, since ye delight to know The cause why that homeward I me draw, And flee the ...
Is it thy will that I should wax and wane, Barter my cloth of gold for hodden grey, And at ...
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth, Which now my breast o'ercharged to music lendeth? To you, to ...
Dawn talks to Day Over dew-gleaming flowers, Night flies away Till the resting of hours: Fresh are thy feet And ...
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