Go, let oblivion's curtain fall Upon the stage of men. Nor with thy rising beams recall Life's tragedy again: Its piteous pageants bring not back, Nor waken flesh, upon the rack Of pain anew to writhe; Stretched in disease's shapes abhorred, Or mown in... Time's Telescope - Page cx1826Full view - About this book
| Richard Edwards - Readers - 1867 - 368 pages
...in disease's shapes abhorred, Or mown in battle by the sword, Like grass beneath the scythe. 6. Even I am weary in yon skies To watch thy fading fire •...Test of all sunless agonies, Behold not me expire. My lips that speak thy dirge of death — • Their rounded gasp and gurgling breath To see thou shalt... | |
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