Quote:
Originally Posted by Hamlet53
So continuing the poetry corner we have going here.
Then sing, ye birds, sing, sing a joyous song!
And let the young lambs bound
As to the tabor's sound!
We in thought will join your throng,
Ye that pipe and ye that play,
Ye that through your hearts to-day
Feel the gladness of the May!
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Wordsworth,
Intimations of Immortality. The last lines break my heart every time.
Quote:
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
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