Home Sick

O time, great Healer! canst thou still

The crying hearts that feel the knife?

O great Restorer, canst thou fill

The wide gaps broken out of life

By love and duty’s bitter strife?

O Friend, and canst thou, as they say,

Soothe all our troubles on thy breast,

Till, calm in death, they pass away,

And, one by one, are laid to rest

In unknown graves, beyond our quest?

Nay, there’s a wound thou canst not ease;

Nay, there’s a sickness past thine art.

Ah me! while I’m beyond the seas,

There’ll be a sore place in my heart

That, at a touch, will throb and smart.

Nay, nay, with all thy skill-with all

The care and cunning thou mayst spend,

Thou canst but weakly patch the wall

That wrench of parting came to rend,

That gap no mason’s hand can mend.

And as for buried sorrows-one

Hears every sound above its head;

Joys and prosperities may run

With happy footsteps o’er the dead,-

This grief of absence feels the tread.

O Time, thy graveyard is a street-

Thy graves no sculptured records crown;

Yet this one, trod of many feet,

Still shows the heap’d earth, fresh and brown,-

No foot of joy can press it down.

There velvet mosses soon will creep,

And grey and golden lichens grow;

There sweet white snowdrops soon will peep,

And purple violets bud and blow,

From winter’s bosom, cloak’d in snow;

There summer lights and shades will fall,

And soft rains patter through the trees;

There slender grasses, frail and tall,

Will weave and whisper in the breeze-

‘Twill be a grave in spite of these.

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A few random poems:

External links

Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus

Talking Writing Monster’s Page –

Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• One’s-Self I Sing. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• One Hour to Madness and Joy. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Once I Pass’d Through a Populous City. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• On the Beach at Night, Alone. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• On Journeys Through The States. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Old Ireland. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Offerings. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Of the Visage of Things. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Of the Terrible Doubt of Appearances. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Of Him I Love Day and Night. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• O You Whom I Often and Silently Come. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• O Tan-faced Prairie Boy. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• O Sun of Real Peace. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• O Star of France. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• O Living Always—Always Dying. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• O Hymen! O Hymenee! by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• O Bitter Sprig! Confession Sprig! by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Now List to my Morning’s Romanza. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Now Finale to the Shore. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Not Youth Pertains to Me. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman

More external links (open in a new tab):

Russian Commerce Agency

Dealing Monster

Doska or the Board – write anything

Search engines:

Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)

Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.

Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees

Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.

Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

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