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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 17:44:38 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 75959
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Wild Winds Weep
[time] => 2004-12-15 21:25:30
[hometext] => This poem belongs to William Blake (one of my favorite poets of all time), and I thought that it would give all us poets something to aspire to as it's a brilliant poem.
[bodytext] => The wild winds weep, And the night is a-cold; Come hither, Sleep, And my griefs unfold: But lo! the morning peeps Over the eastern steeps, And the rustling beds of dawn The earth do scorn. Lo! to the vault Of pavèd heaven, With sorrow fraught My notes are driven: They strike the ear of night, Make weep the eyes of day; They make made the roaring winds, And with tempests play. Like a fiend in a cloud, With howling woe After night I do crowd, And with night will go; I turn my back to the east From whence comforts have increas'd For light doth seize my brain With frantic pain. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 163 [topic] => 61 [informant] => Black_Rose [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => selfstruggles )
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