Prisoner, The
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Prisoner, The
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Since last I felt the green sward under foot,
Or thoughts of Heaven we weep at. Natures lute
Met mine upon my lip
九-九-藏-书-网
s. Now earth appears
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
A strange wild music to the pri九九藏书soners ears,
Of sunlit hills transfigured to Divine.
And the great breath of all things summer-
I count the d藏书网ismal time by months and years
Dilated by the distance, till the brain
Streams, forests, glades, and many a golden 九_九_藏_书_网train
Prisoner, The
While ever, with a visionary pain,
Grows dim with fancies which it feels too
Sounds 九-九-藏-书-网on, behind this door so closely shut,
As strange to me as dreams of distant spheres
Past the precluded senses, sweep and Rhine
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