Three score years I lived; and then Looked for to live another ten. But he who from the Hale and Quick Robs the pure Oile that feeds the Wick Chanced my enfeebled frame to mark -- Hence, this unutterable Darke. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MOON-BRIGHT DREAMS by WILLIAM EDWARD ADAMS THE DANUBE RIVER by C. HAMILTON AIDE GOLDEN HILL by HAMILTON FISH ARMSTRONG SONNETS ON EMINENT CHARACTERS: 10. TO ROBERT SOUTHEY by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE VISIONS IN VERSE: 8. LIFE by NATHANIEL COTTON PROUD LOVE by ANNA BUNSTON DE BARY |