Heavy as fate, and deep almost as life.”
“O joy, that in our embers
Is something that doth live,
That nature yet remembers
What was so fugitive.”
“To me, the meanest flower that blows, can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.”
Heavy as fate, and deep almost as life.”
“O joy, that in our embers
Is something that doth live,
That nature yet remembers
What was so fugitive.”
“To me, the meanest flower that blows, can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.”