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In all the silent manliness of grief.
In all the silent manliness of grief.
If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine,
Thou robb'st me of a moiety.
If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine,
Thou robb'st me of a moiety.
O, brothers! let us leave the shame and sin
Of taking vainly in a plaintive mood,
The read more
O, brothers! let us leave the shame and sin
Of taking vainly in a plaintive mood,
The holy name of Grief--holy herein,
That, by the grief of One, came all our good.
Great, good, and just, could I but rate
My grief with thy too rigid fate,
I'd weep read more
Great, good, and just, could I but rate
My grief with thy too rigid fate,
I'd weep the world in such a strain
As it should deluge once again;
But since thy loud-tongued blood demands supplies
More from Briareus' hands than Argus' eyes,
I'll sing thy obsequies with trumpet sounds
And write thy epitaph in blood and wounds.
My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells read more
My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortured soul
What need a man forestall his date of grief,
And run to meet what he would most avoid?
What need a man forestall his date of grief,
And run to meet what he would most avoid?
Oh Martin Sometimes your voice was the thunder..Sometimes it was the falling rain. Always it burst our hearts asunder
and read more
Oh Martin Sometimes your voice was the thunder..Sometimes it was the falling rain. Always it burst our hearts asunder
and made them vibrate.. empathic in pain.
Were floods of tears to be unloosed
In tribute to my grief,
The doves of Noah ne'er read more
Were floods of tears to be unloosed
In tribute to my grief,
The doves of Noah ne'er had roost
Nor found an olive-leaf.
This grief is crowned with consolation, you old smock brings
forth a new petticoat, and indeed the tears live read more
This grief is crowned with consolation, you old smock brings
forth a new petticoat, and indeed the tears live in an onion that
should water this sorrow.