d her shadow in dark leaves ?Thither I go. Light thou the wax that grievesIn the swift flame, and sheds an alien tearOver the vain gold ; wilt not say in mereChildishness ? Nurse.Now ? HERODIADE.Farewell. You lie, O flowerOf these chill lips ! I wait the unknown hour,Or, deaf to your crying and…
English literature · Literature, Modern · Art
Internet Archive · Philadelphia Museum of Art · Public Domain Mark 1.0. Free to use for anything.
