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Translations - From the French - Poems - A Quiet Life Post by :staysafe Category :Poems Author :Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Date :June 2011 Read :1265

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Translations - From the French - Poems - A Quiet Life

A Quiet Life

Let him who will, by force or fraud innate,
Of courtly grandeurs gain the slippery height;
I, leaving not the home of my delight,
Far from the world and noise will meditate.
Then, without pomps or perils of the great,
I shall behold the day succeed the night;
Behold the alternate seasons take their flight,
And in serene repose old age await.
And so, whenever Death shall come to close
The happy moments that my days compose,
I, full of years, shall die, obscure, alone!
How wretched is the man, with honors crowned,
Who, having not the one thing needful found,
Dies, known to all, but to himself unknown.

Content: From the French: A Quiet Life (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem Translations)

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The Weaver The Weaver

The Weaver
All day, all day, round the clacking net The weaver's fingers fly: Gray dreams like frozen mists are set In the hush of the weaver's eye; A voice from the dusk is calling yet, "Oh, come away, or we die!" Without is a horror of hosts that fight, That rest not, and cease not to kill, The thunder of feet and the cry of flight,

The Little Handmaiden The Little Handmaiden

The Little Handmaiden
The King's son walks in the garden fair-- _Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!_ He little knows for his toil and care, That the bride is gone and the bower is bare. _Put on garments of white, my maidens!_ The sun shines bright through the casement high-- _Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!_ The little handmaid, with a laughing eye, Looks down on the king's son, strolling by.