1 min read
Слушать(AI)Love And Sleep
I have laid sorrow to sleep;
Love sleeps.
She who oft made me weep Now weeps.
I loved, and have forgot,
And yet Love tells me she will not Forget.
She it was bid me go;
Love goes By what strange ways, ah! no One knows.
Because I cease to weep,
She weeps.
Here by the sea in sleep,
Love sleeps.
Arthur Symons
Arthur William Symons (28 February 1865 – 22 January 1945), was a British poet, critic and magazine editor.
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
By The Pool Of The Third Rosses
I heard the sighing of the reed In the grey pool in the green land, The sea-wind in the long reeds sighing Between the green hill and the sand I heard the sighing of the reeds Day after day, night after night; I heard the whirring w...
The Bond
Beloved, and Stranger to me than my foe, And nearer to me than my breath, and my peace and my strife, What is it that binds us straitly together Life;
On Inishmaan Isles Of Aran
In the twilight of the year, Here, about these twilight ways, When the grey moth night drew near, Fluttering on a faint flying,
The One Desire
If I think of your soul, I see Your body's beauty; and then I pray to your body again, And your soul answers me So to possess you whole,
