large/10730/children_of_the_night_1604_librivox_64kb_mp3/childrenofthenight_46_robinson_64kb_2
large/10730/children_of_the_night_1604_librivox_64kb_mp3/childrenofthenight_46_robinson_64kb
English
10730
Song sloughs away the sin to find redress In art's complete remembrance: nothing clings For long but laurel to the stricken brow That felt the Muse's finger; nothing less Than hell's fulfilment of the end of things Can blot the star that shines on Paris now. SONG SLOUGHS AWAY THE SIN TO FIND REDRESS IN AUGHT'S COMPLETE REMEMBRANCE NOTHING CLINGS FROM LONG BUT LAUREL TO THE STRICKEN BROW THE FELT THAT THE MUSED FINGERS NOTHING LESS THE HELL'S FILAMENT TO THE ENDS OF THINGS CAN BLOT THE STAR THAT SHINES ON PARIS NOW
 foam A little while, and then breaks utterly. Sonnet The master and the slave go hand in hand, Though touch be lost. The poet is a slave, And there be kings do sorrowfully crave The joyance that a scullion may command. But, ah, the sonnet-slave must understand The mission of his bondage, or the grave May clasp his bones, or ever he shall save The perfect word that is the poet's wand! The sonnet is a crown, whereof the rhymes Are for Thought's purest gold the jewel-stones; But shapes and echoes that are never done Will haunt the workshop, as regret sometimes Will bring with human yearning to sad thrones The crash of battles that are never won. Verlaine Why do you dig like long-clawed scavengers To touch the covered corpse of him that fled The uplands for the fens, and rioted Like a sick satyr with doom's worshippers? Come! let the grass grow there; and leave his verse To tell the story of the life he led. Let the man go: let the dead flesh be dead, And let the worms be its biographers.  VERLAINE BY EDWIN ALLINGTON ROBINSON BRED FOR LIVERPOXCOTT ORG BY JAMES OPINE VERLAINE WHAT DO YOU DIG LIKE LONG CLAWED SCABBAGES TO TOUCH THE COVERED CORPSE OF HIM THAT FLED THE UPLANDS FOR THE FENS AND RIOTED LIKE A SICK SATYR WITH DOOMED'S WORSHIPPERS COME LET THE GRASS GROW THERE AND LEAVE HIS VERSE TO TELL THE STORY OF THE LIFE HE LED LET THE MAN GO LET THE DEAD FLESH BE DEAD AND LET THE WORMS BE ITS BIOGRAPHERS
large/10730/children_of_the_night_1604_librivox_64kb_mp3/childrenofthenight_46_robinson_64kb
file
download/librilight/large/10730/children_of_the_night_1604_librivox_64kb_mp3/childrenofthenight_46_robinson_64kb.flac