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Poem by Louise Imogen Guiney In a Ruin, after a Thunder-Storm Keep of the Norman, old to flood and cloud! Thou dost reproach me with thy sunset look, That in our common menace, I forsook Hope, the last fear, and stood impartial proud: Almost, almost, while ether spake aloud, Death, from the smoking stones, my spirit shook Into thy hollow as leaves into a brook, No more than they by heaven’s assassins cowed. But now thy thousand-scarrèd steep is flecked With the calm kisses of the light delayed, Breathe on me better valour: to subject My soul to greed of life, and grow afraid Lest, ere her fight’s full term, the Architect See downfall of the stronghold that He made. Louise Imogen Guiney Louise Imogen Guiney's other poems:
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