A LAMENT.

O World! O Life! O Time!

On whose last steps I climb,

Trembling at that where I had stood before;

When will return the glory of your prime?

No more,--O nevermore!

Out of the day and night

A joy has taken flight:

Fresh spring, and summer, and winter hoar

Move my faint heart with grief, but with delight

No more,--O nevermore!

_Percy Bysshe Shelley._

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Minor Poems · 第 130 / 158 题