spedisci salva scarica sposta elimina brutta non male bella commenta
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Lovers' Infiniteness...
If yet I have not all thy love, Dear, I shall never have it all; I cannot breathe one other sigh, to move, Nor can intreat one other tear to fall; And all my treasure, which should purchase thee Sighs, tears, and oaths, and letters I have spent. Yet no more can be due to me, Than at the bargain made was meant; If then thy gift of love were partial, That some to me, some should to others fall, Dear, I shall never have thee all.
Or if then thou gavest me all, All was but all, which thou hadst then; But if in thy heart, since, there be or shall New love created be, by other men, Which have their stocks entire, and can in tears, In sighs, in oaths, and letters, outbid me, This new love may beget new fears, For this love was not vow'd by thee. And yet it was, thy gift being general; The ground, thy heart, is mine; whatever shall Grow there, dear, I should have it all.
Yet I would not have all yet, He that hath all can have no more; And since my love doth every day admit New growth, thou shouldst have new rewards in store; Thou canst not every day give me thy heart, If thou canst give it, then thou never gavest it; Love's riddles are, that though thy heart depart, It stays at home, and thou with losing savest it; But we will have a way more liberal, Than changing hearts, to join them; so we shall Be one, and one another's all.
spedisci salva scarica sposta elimina brutta non male bella commenta
0 commenti; popolarità: 0; voti: 0
Costance Hately
You praise my self-sacrifice, Spoon River, In rearing Irene and Mary, Orphans of my older sister! And you censure Irene and Mary For their contempt for me! But praise not my self-sacrifice, And censure not their contempt; I reared them, I cared for them, true enough! — But I poisoned my benefactions With constant reminders of their dependence
spedisci salva scarica sposta elimina brutta non male bella commenta
0 commenti; popolarità: 0; voti: 2
Youth calls to age
You too have seen the sun a bird of fire Stepping on clouds across the golden sky, Have known man's envy and his weak desire, Have loved and lost. You, who are old, have loved and lost as I All that is beautiful but born to die, Have traced your patterns in the hastening frost. And you have walked upon the hills at night, And bared your head beneath the living sky, When it was noon have walked into the light, Knowing such joy as I. Though there are years between us, they are naught; Youth calls to age across the tired years: <>, he cries, <> <> age answers through his tears, <>.
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