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Thursday, March 14, 2019

Very peaceful the place is

The Fountain Of Tears:

You may feel, when a falling leaf brushes 
Your face, as though some one had kiss'd you, 
Or think at least some one who miss'd you 
Had sent you a thought,—if that cheers; 
Or a bird's little song, faint and broken, 
May pass for a tender word spoken: 
—Enough, while around you there rushes 
That life-drowning torrent of tears. 

And the tears shall flow faster and faster, 
Brim over and baffle resistance, 
And roll down blear'd roads to each distance 
Of past desolation and years; 
Till they cover the place of each sorrow, 
And leave you no past and no morrow: 
For what man is able to master 
And stem the great Fountain of Tears? 

Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy.


March 14, 2019 | Permalink


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