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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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 

• Robert Burns: I Hae Been At Crookieden: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Ye Jacobites By Name: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Such A Parcel Of Rogues In A Nation: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Frae The Friends And Land I Love: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Nithsdale’s Welcome Hame: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Address To The Shade Of Thomson: On Crowning His Bust at Ednam, Roxburghshire, with a Wreath of Bays. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Sweet Afton : by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: My Bonie Bell: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Thou Fair Eliza: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: O For Ane An’ Twenty, Tam : by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: My Tocher’s The Jewel: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Altho’ He Has Left Me: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: My Eppie Macnab: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Johnie Lad, Cock Up Your Beaver: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Damon And Sylvia: Fragment by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Lovely Polly Stewart: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: You’re Welcome, Willie Stewart: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epigram At Brownhill Inn: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Gallant Weaver: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Verses On The Destruction Of The Woods Near Drumlanrig: by Robert Burns

More external links (open in a new tab):

Russian Commerce Agency

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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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