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Full Online Book HomePoemsLines, Written In London
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Lines, Written In London Post by :dolorespepper Category :Poems Author :Fanny Kemble Date :November 2011 Read :647

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Lines, Written In London

Struggle not with thy life!--the heavy doom
Resist not, it will bow thee like a slave:
Strive not! thou shalt not conquer; to thy tomb
Thou shalt go crushed, and ground, though ne'er so brave.

Complain not of thy life!--for what art thou
More than thy fellows, that thou should'st not weep?
Brave thoughts still lodge beneath a furrowed brow,
And the way-wearied have the sweetest sleep.

Marvel not at thy life!--patience shall see
The perfect work of wisdom to her given;
Hold fast thy soul through this high mystery,
And it shall lead thee to the gates of heaven.

(The end)
Fanny Kemble's poem: Lines, Written In London

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To --- (what Recks The Sun, How Weep The Heavy Flowers) To --- (what Recks The Sun, How Weep The Heavy Flowers)

To --- (what Recks The Sun, How Weep The Heavy Flowers)
What recks the sun, how weep the heavy flowers All the sad night, when he is far away?What recks he, how they mourn, through those dark hours, Till back again he leads the smiling day?As lifts each watery bloom its tearful eye, And blesses from its lowly seat, the god,In his great glory he goes through the sky, And recks not of the blessing from the sod.And what is it to thee, oh, thou, my fate! That all my hope, and joy, remains with thee?That thy departing, leaves me desolate,

Return Return

When the bright sun back on his yearly road Comes towards us, his great glory seems to me,As from the sky he pours it all abroad, A golden herald, my beloved, of thee.When from the south the gentle winds do blow, Calling the flowers that sleep beneath the earth,It sounds like sweetest music, that doth go Before thy coming, full of love and mirth.When one by one the violets appear, Opening their purple vests so modestly,To greet the virgin daughter of the year, Each seems a fragrant prophecy of