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!du!
09-09-2006, 07:51 PM
Lord, who createdst man in wealth and store,
Though foolishly he lost the same,
Decaying more and more,
Till he became
Most poore:
With thee
Oh let me rise
As larks, harmoniously,
And sing this day thy victories:
Then shall the fall further the flight in me.

My tender age in sorrow did beginne:
And still with sicknesses and shame
Thou didst so punish sinne,
That I became
Most thinne.
With thee
Let me combine
And feel this day thy victorie:
For, if I imp my wing on thine
Affliction shall advance the flight in me.

By: George Herbert






What do u guys think about this poem? Its cool how the length of the lines change as the speaker talks about positive and negative things.

lanaia74
09-10-2006, 12:24 PM
So very tender and beautiful! Extremely well done!:thumbs_up :blush: :crash:

Serenata
09-11-2006, 12:13 PM
I like the flow. I have never read this poet before.