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Thomas Wentworth Higginson (Томас Уэнтворт Хиггинсон) To Duty LIGHT of dim mornings; shield from heat and cold; Balm for all ailments; substitute for praise; Comrade of those who plod in lonely ways (Ways that grow lonelier as the years wax old); Tonic for fears; check to the over-bold; Nurse, whose calm hand its strong restriction lays, Kind but resistless, on our wayward days; Mart, where high wisdom at vast price is sold; Gardener, whose touch bids the rose-petals fall, The thorns endure; surgeon, who human hearts Searchest with probes, though the death-touch be given; Spell that knits friends, but yearning lovers parts; Tyrant relentless o'er our blisses all;-- Oh, can it be, thine other name is Heaven? Thomas Wentworth Higginson's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1291 |
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