AWEARY.

The clouds that vex the upper deep

Stay not the white sail of the moon;

And lips may moan, and hearts may weep,

The sad old earth goes rolling on.

O'er smiling vale, and sighing lake,

One shadow cold is overthrown;

And souls may faint, and hearts may break,

The sad old earth goes rolling on.

Poems(#10216) · 第 69 / 82 题