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The Forsaken The dead are in their silent graves, And the dew is cold above, And the living weep and sigh, Over dust that once was love. Once I only wept the dead, But now the living cause my pain: How couldst thou steal me from my tears, To leave me to my tears again? My Mother rests beneath the sod,-- Her rest is calm and very deep: I wish'd that she could see our loves,-- But now I gladden in her sleep. Last night unbound my raven locks, The morning saw them turned to gray, Once they were black and well beloved, But thou art changed,--and so are they! The useless lock I gave thee once, To gaze upon and think of me, Was ta'en with smiles,--but this was torn In sorrow that I send to thee! Thomas Hood's other poems:
Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1879 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |