708
I sometimes drop it, for a Quick—
The Thought to be alive—
Anonymous Delight to know—
And Madder—to conceive—
Consoles a Woe so monstrous
That did it tear all Day,
Without an instant's Respite—
'Twould look too far—to Die—
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
..........excellent write...and great theme ★