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Frederick Goddard Tuckerman (Фредерик Годдард Такерман) First Series. 1. Sometimes, when winding slow by brook and bower Sometimes, when winding slow by brook and bower, Beating the idle grass,--of what avail, I ask, are these dim fancies, cares and fears? What though from every bank I drew a flower,-- Bloodroot, king orchis, or the pearlwort pale,-- And set it in my verse with thoughtful tears? What would it count though I should sing my death And muse and mourn with as poetic breath As in damp garden walks the autumn gale Sighs o'er the fallen floriage? What avail Is the swan's voice if all the hearers fail? Or his great flight that no eye gathereth In the blending blue? And yet depending so, God were not God, whom knowledge cannot know. Frederick Goddard Tuckerman's other poems:
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