Lassitude |
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Go Back Venus and Adonis Sonnet #1 Sonnet #2 Sonnet #3 Sonnet #4 Sonnet #5 Sonnet #6 Sonnet #7 Patterns Underneath Auspex War Spring's Welcome Goldfinches Naseby Ivry The Sea-King's Burial Underneath Lassitude The Hospital The Passions Buttons Listeners Invisible Bride Lincoln A Look into the Gulf |
my desires no more, alas, Summon my soul to my eyelids' brink, For with its prayers that ebb and pass It too must sink, Convers Shoes BrandShoes Heely Shoes To lie in the depth of my closéd eyes; Only the flowers of its weary breath Like icy blooms to the surface rise, Lilies of death. Its lips are sealed, in the depths of woe, And a world away, in the far-off gloom, They sing of azure stems that grow A mystic bloom. But lo, its fingers--I have grown Pallid beholding them, I who perceive Them traces the marks its poor unblown Lost lilies leave. And I know it must die, for its hour is o'er; Folding its impotent hands at last, Hands too weary to pluck any more The flowers of the past! lips have long forgotten to bestow Their kiss on blind eyes chiller than the snow, Henceforth absorbed in their magnificent dream. Drowsy as hounds deep in the grass they seem; They watch the grey flocks on the sky-line pass, Browsing on the moonlight scattered o'er the grass, By skies as vague as their own life caressed. They see, unvexed by envy or unrest, The roses of joy that open on every hand, The long green peace they cannot understand. |