Charles Guerin Poems

Fain would I be a man; now in no wise
My poems answer man's distress and cries.
Some men will wile their idleness away
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O Tragic hours when lovers leave each other !
Then every mistress feels herself a mother,
And, making of her lap a chair of ease,
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This winter night is odorous of spring.
Dreaming, my casement open wide I fling.
Upon a veil of silk the wind seems flying.
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