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John Bannister Tabb (Джон Банистер Табб) Poe's Purgatory All others rest; but I Dream-haunted lie— A distant roar, As of tumultuous waters, evermore About my brain. E'en Sleep, tho' fain To soothe me, flies affrighted, and alone I bear the incumbent stone Of Death That stifles breath, But not the hideous chorus crying "Shame!" Upon my name. Had I not Song? Yea; and it lingers yet The souls to fret Of an ignoble throng, Aflame with hate Of the exulting Fate That hurls their idols from her temple fair, And shrines me there. John Bannister Tabb's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1242 |
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