"I've hear the wise and learned say,
The heart is vary languid else.
'Tis long, dear mother, long indeed,
Since last I heard the glad birds talk;
I lean upon a broken reed,
O'erwearied with life's morning walk;
To watch, and rock me into sleep,
Death's servants on my pillow wait;
Mother, is it a sin to weep,
Since I have lived and not been great?"
E.H. Burrington
- Subject Matter: Landscape
- Collections: Available