Category: Poetry
These ever wakeful eyes are closed. They saw Such grief, that they could see no more. The heart-- That quick'ning pulse of nations--could not bear Another throb of pain, and could not hear Another cry of tortur'd motherhood. Those uncomplaining lips, they sob no more The sound...
These ever wakeful eyes are closed. They saw Such grief, that they could see no more. The heart-- That quick'ning pulse of nations--could not bear Another throb of pain, and cou...
2. Part 2The moon has but one side of light and beauty, The other, steeped in never-ending night, Seems worse than dead, as in the harmony Of spheres, she cannot even echo. And She died...