Rhymes of a Rolling Stone by Robert W. (Robert William) Service
page 20 of 118 (16%)
page 20 of 118 (16%)
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X For weeks, for months I have not seen the sun; The minatory dawns are leprous pale; The felon days malinger one by one; How like a dream Life is! how vain! how stale! I, too, am faint; that vampire-like disease Has fallen on me; weak and cold am I, Hugging a tiny fire in fear I freeze: The cabin must be cold, and so I try To bear the frost, the frost that fights decay, The frost that keeps her beautiful alway. XI She lies within an icy vault; It glitters like a cave of salt. All marble-pure and angel-sweet With candles at her head and feet, Under an ermine robe she lies. I kiss her hands, I kiss her eyes: "Come back, come back, O Love, I pray, Into this house, this house of clay! Answer my kisses soft and warm; Nestle again within my arm. Come! for I know that you are near; Open your eyes and look, my dear. |
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