I am the pillars of the house;
The keystone of the arch am I.
Take me away, and roof and wall Would fall to ruin...
So late, and yet a nightingale?
Long since have dropp’d the blossoms pale,
The summer fields are rip...
Here, where your garden fenced about and still is,
Here, where the unmoved summer air is sweet
With mixed deli...
I knew not if to laugh or weep;
They sat and talked of you–
“‘Twas here he sat; ’twas this he sa...
More blest than was of old Diogenes,
I have not held my lantern up in vain.
Not mine, at least, this evil–to compl...
If within my heart there’s mould,
If the flame of Poesy
And the flame of Love grow cold,
Slay my bod...
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