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Philosophy I SOMETIMES long to throw my books away And to forget the thoughts that make me sad— The mighty musings that have ever clad The minds of men in chill and sombre grey. I sometimes long to laugh out and be gay As some blithe, thoughtless, merry-hearted lad Or wander in the forest and be glad Without a memory of a heavier day; Yet when I try to turn myself apart From all the deeper mysteries of Life In nature-love and hate of human strife, Still the same thoughts throng through my throbbing brain And I arise in heaviness of heart And turn me to my studying again. Richard Hovey's other poems: Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1255 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |