Was there even a cause too lost,
Ever a cause that was lost too long,
Or that showed with the lapse of time to vain
For the generous tears of youth and song?
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In Equal Sacrifice – Poem by Robert Frost
Thus of old the Douglas did:He left his land as he was bidWith the royal heart of Robert the BruceIn a golden case with a golden lid,To carry the same to the Holy Land;By which we see and understandThat that was the place to carry a heartAt loyalty and love’s command,And that was the case…
A plow, they say, to plow the snow.
Unless in bitterness to mockAt having cultivated rock.
Design – Poem by Robert Frost
I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,On a white heal-all, holding up a mothLike a white piece of rigid satin cloth —Assorted characters of death and blightMixed ready to begin the morning right,Like the ingredients of a witches’ broth —A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,And dead wings carried like a paper kite….
The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift,
Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift,And the hoof-prints vanish away.The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee,Expend their bloom in vain.Come over the hills and far with me,And be my love in the rain.The birds have less to say for themselvesIn the wood-world’s torn despairThan now these numberless years the elves,Although they are no…
Where The Bee Sucks (from The Tempest) by William Shakespeare
WHERE the bee sucks, there suck I:In a cowslip’s bell I lie;There I couch when owls do cry.On the bat’s back I do fly.After summer merrily:Merrily, merrily, shall I live nowUnder the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Sonnet Cxlvi by William Shakespeare
In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,For they in thee a thousand errors note;But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,Who in despite of view is pleased to dote;