TAMERLANE. ========== I. I have sent for thee, holy friar; (1) But ‘twas not with the drunken hope, Which is but agony of desire To shun the fate, with which to cope Is more than crime may dare to dream, That I have call’d thee at this hour: Such father is not my theme — Nor am I mad, to deem that power Of earth may shrive me of the sin Unearthly pride hath revell’d in — I would not call thee fool, old man, But hope is not a gift of thine; If I can hope (O God! I can) It falls from an eternal shrine. ¬
Posted on: Sat, 20 Jul 2013 06:38:00 +0000