LATER POEMS
I must have thirsted, indeed,
For pity, then love, then praise;
For to win them, in every deed,
I endeavoured all my days.
For pity, then love, then praise;
For to win them, in every deed,
I endeavoured all my days.
The Soldier and the Son
Were my seductive parts;
But I could act the clown,—
Draw laughter from dumb hearts.
Were my seductive parts;
But I could act the clown,—
Draw laughter from dumb hearts.
The Soldier part was my best,—
'Twas my last and my favourite.
Every gift that I possessed
I displayed for their benefit.
Who are They? On my breast
Weighs the infinite.
'Twas my last and my favourite.
Every gift that I possessed
I displayed for their benefit.
Who are They? On my breast
Weighs the infinite.
Ah, yes, I appeared heroic,
Unflinching, true and brave;
I wore the look of a stoic;—
All hurts I forgave.
Unflinching, true and brave;
I wore the look of a stoic;—
All hurts I forgave.
But now on the grass I turn
To ease a little the pain;
It is not too late to learn.
To ease a little the pain;
It is not too late to learn.
Last night I lay in the rain
Until my body was numb,
Hearing like a refrain:
Until my body was numb,
Hearing like a refrain:
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