Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.
W. Wordsworth
Ode: Intimations Of Immortality From Recollections Of Early Childhood
6 comentários:
Um bocado triste, não?
tu leste bem? :)
miss you
:)*
"We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;"
Depends on what remains behind...
Mas como me atrevo eu a fazer comentários a Wordsworth? :))
beijos
é lindo, sim :)**
está aqui completo
um bom domingo para quem passar por cá!*:)
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