I am a young passionate blogger, very passionate to learn about , something different, on research
Bernard, if to you and me Fortune all at once should give Years to spend secure and free, With the choice of how to live,
By prashant sapkota5 years ago in Poets
De ol' time's gone, de new time's hyeah Wid all hits fuss an' feddahs; I done fu'got de joy an' cheah We knowed all kin's o' weddahs,
TIR. Choose the darkest part o' th' grove, Such as ghosts at noonday love. Dig a trench, and dig it nigh
Here is the soundless cypress on the lawn: It listens, listens. Taller trees beyond Listen. The moon at the unruffled pond
Here, where precipitate Spring with one light bound Into hot Summer's lusty arms expires; And where go forth at morn, at eve, at night,
The night is old, and all the world Is wearied out with strife; A long gray mist lies heavy and wan Above the house of life.
My dear wife sits beside the fire With folded hands and dreaming eyes, Watching the restless flames aspire,
Glowing with love, on fire for fame A Troubadour that hated sorrow Beneath his lady's window came, And thus he sung his last good-morrow:
Sweet Flower! belike one day to have A place upon thy Poet's grave, I welcome thee once more: But He, who was on land, at sea,
Dull to myself, and almost dead to these My many fresh and fragrant mistresses; Lost to all music now, since everything
There were three cherry trees once, Grew in a garden all shady; And there for delight of so gladsome a sight, Walked a most beautiful lady,
Through leafy windows of the trees The full moon shows a wrinkled face, And, trailing dim her draperies Of mist from place to place,
