Bereft Poem by John Bannister Tabb
Bereft
As when her calf is taken, far and near
The restless mother roves,
So now my heart lows, wandering everywhere,
To wake the voice it loves.
O Distance, are the echoes backward thrown
In mockery of pain?
Or doth remembered anguish of thine own
Bring them to birth again?
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
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5/10/2024 10:06:45 PM # 1.0.0.1119
