The Windows – C V Cavafy

The Windows In these dark rooms my days are burdensome; and restlessly I wander to and fro seeking the windows. — For relief will come if one of them wide open I should throw. — But none is to be found, or I explore incapably. And, haply, better so. Perhaps the light will be one…

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Prospice – Robert Browning

Fear death? _ to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote I am nearing the place, The power of the night, the press of the storm, The post of the foe; Where he stands, the Arch fear in a visible form, Yet the…

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