The Monk (Archibald Lampman Poems)
IIn Nino's chamber not a sound intrudesUpon the midnight's tingling silentness,Where Nino sits before his book and broods,Thin and brow-burdened ...
IIn Nino's chamber not a sound intrudesUpon the midnight's tingling silentness,Where Nino sits before his book and broods,Thin and brow-burdened ...
In his dim chapel day by dayThe organist was wont to play,And please himself with fluted reveries;And all the spirit's ...
Not, not for thee, Belovèd child, the burning grasp of life Shall bruise the tender soul. The noise, and strife, And clamor of midday thou shalt not see; But wrapped for ever in thy quiet grave, Too little to have known the earthly lot, Time's clashing hosts above thine innocent head, Wave upon wave, Shall break, or pass as with an army's tread, And harm thee not. A few short years We of the living flesh and restless brain Shall plumb the deeps of life and know the strain, The fleeting gleams of joy, the fruitless tears; And then at last when all is touched and tried, Our own immutable night shall fall, and deep In the same silent plot, O little friend, Side by thy side, In peace that changeth not, nor knoweth end, We too shall sleep.(Archibald Lampman)
Friend, though thy soul should burn thee, yet be stillThoughts were not meant for strife, nor tongues for swords,He that ...
Once ye were happy, once by many a shore,Wherever Glooscap's gentle feet might stray,Lulled by his presence like a dream, ...
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