Poems. Selections
dc.contributor | Kenny, Anthony St Johns College |
dc.contributor.author | Clough, Arthur Hugh, 1819-1861 |
dc.date.accessioned | 2018-07-27 |
dc.date.accessioned | 2019-07-04T09:49:33Z |
dc.date.available | 2019-07-04T09:49:33Z |
dc.date.created | 1848-1861 |
dc.date.issued | 1987-01-02 |
dc.identifier | ota:1045 |
dc.identifier.citation | http://purl.ox.ac.uk/ota/1045 |
dc.identifier.uri | http://hdl.handle.net/20.500.12024/1045 |
dc.description.abstract | Title proper taken from record sheet |
dc.format.extent | Text data (1 file : ca. 415 KB) |
dc.format.medium | Digital bitstream |
dc.language | English |
dc.language.iso | eng |
dc.publisher | University of Oxford |
dc.relation.ispartof | Oxford Text Archive Core Collection |
dc.rights | Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. |
dc.rights.uri | http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/ |
dc.rights.label | PUB |
dc.subject.lcsh | Poems -- Great Britain -- 19th century |
dc.subject.other | Poems |
dc.title | Poems. Selections |
dc.type | Text |
has.files | yes |
branding | Oxford Text Archive |
files.size | 429868 |
files.count | 2 |
otaterms.date.range | 1800-1899 |
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<B AMBARVALIA>
<P 1>
THE human spirits saw I on a day,
Sitting and looking each a different way;
And hardly tasking, subtly questioning,
Another spirit went around the ring
To each and each: and as he ceased his say,
Each after each, I heard them singly sing,
Some querulously high, some softly, sadly low,
We know not,---what avails to know ?
We know not,---wherefore need we know ?
This answer gave they still unto his suing,
We know not, let us do as we are doing.
Dost thou not know that these things only seem ?---
I know not, let me dream my dream.
Are dust and ashes fit to make a treasure ?---
I know not, let me take my pleasure.
What shall avail the knowledge thou hast sought ?---
I know not, let me think my thought.
What is the end of strife ?---
I know not, let me live my life.
How many days or e'er thou mean'st to move ?---
I know not, let me love my love.
Were not things old once new ?---
I know not, let me do as others do.
And when the rest were over past,
I k . . .