Thou, sibyl rapt! whose sympathetic soul
Infused the myst’ries thy tongue failed to tell;
Though from thy lips the marvellous accents fell,
And weird wise meanings o’er the senses stole,
Through those rare cadences, with winsome spell;
Yet even in such refrainings of thy voice
There struggled up a wailing undertone,
That spoke thee victim...
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The World goes up and the world goes down,
And the sunshine follows the rain;
And yesterday’s sneer, and yesterday’s frown,
Can never come over again,
Sweet wife,
No, never come over again.For woman is warm, though man be cold,
And the night will hallow the day;
Till the heart which at even was weary and old... -