The Solitary, and other poems With The Cavalier, a play. By Charles Whitehead |
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The Solitary, and other poems | ||
“All—all—in masses for my soul;
Dost hear me, Graves? I say the whole:
Straight pen it down, let it be sign'd:
O! what a weight is on my mind!”
Then Graves draws nigh—“Good Sir, my speech
A moment would your ear beseech—
The girl”—here Julia nodding smil'd—
“Spoke of the father of her child.”
“Do what thou wilt—do what thou wilt—
O God! what way to lessen guilt!
I tell thee, man, I must not die;
It is my flesh that fails, not I.”
Dost hear me, Graves? I say the whole:
Straight pen it down, let it be sign'd:
O! what a weight is on my mind!”
Then Graves draws nigh—“Good Sir, my speech
A moment would your ear beseech—
The girl”—here Julia nodding smil'd—
“Spoke of the father of her child.”
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O God! what way to lessen guilt!
I tell thee, man, I must not die;
It is my flesh that fails, not I.”
The Solitary, and other poems | ||