Prisoner, The
Since last I felt the green sward under foot,
Or thoughts of Heaven we weep at. Natures lute
Met mine upon my lips. Now earth appears
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
A strange wild music to the pri
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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
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on, behind this door so closely shut,As strange to me as dreams of distant spheres
Past the precluded senses, sweep and Rhine