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datatime: 2022-10-04 21:05:41 Author:ToVNFLKG

And plunge him far from a beam of star till he hears the deep bay of

Thought of the girl we love from cold.

And bird he starved, he stiffened worm;

The heavens are out in fleeces,

That her sons over seas in a rally of praise may behold a thrice

Who sees what tomb a white night built,

Make man, behold, nor count the low the least,

And there did fog down crypts of street

And plunge him far from a beam of star till he hears the deep bay of

As though they caught a broken clue;

Bid Britons awake two steps to take where one is a trouble extreme

vitalised Britain,

A burly joy each creature swells

But to vision alive under shallows of sight, lo, the Labourer's

For a Heracles in his fighting ire there is never the glory that

A City clothed in snow and soot,

Make man, behold, nor count the low the least,

Can an enemy wither his cheer?Not you, ye fair yellowflowering

When ashen he lies and the poets arise to sing of the work he has

Their tricks beneath the father sun,

to run in a stream:

That haunts the farmer's look abroad,

swallow the passions,

Desire of times unripe, we have these two,

Play spectre upon eye and mouth:

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