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Francis Thompson
1859 - 1907
(Ôðåíñèñ Òîìïñîí)
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When I perceive Love’s heavenly reaping still
Regard perforce the clouds’ vicissitude,
That the fixed spirit loves not when it will,
But craves its seasons of the flawful blood;
When I perceive that the high poet doth
Oft voiceless stray beneath the uninfluent stars,
That even Urania of her kiss is loth,
And Song’s brave wings fret on their sensual bars;
When I perceive the fullest-sailed sprite
Lag at most need upon the lethed seas,
The provident captainship oft voided quite,
And lamed lie deep-draughted argosies;
I scorn myself, that put for such strange toys
The wit of man to purposes of boys.
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© 2002 Elena and Yakov Feldman