O,
Inspired by the Bronte sisters
draw draw draw Near the artists lair Upon he sits on the Gallery chair Lay with honey yellow
Ah. let the sweet angels Dream. Keep his eye lids on thy Pillow, Fever make us all thin and
It is I write a few lines Of a poets story of thy Times We all like Mr chimes Who drinks gin on the
Boil up to the heavens Of fire. To the external craters Below. Far from my body of soul
In this open space I thee Lie upon I see trees on Either side and all there leaves to fall In my eyes
I stand upon the Venice bridge Of sighs, A palace and a prison on each Side. I saw from the tidal waves so
Gapes around the silent arena Tis inside bugle trumpets bull ca… Tis of wild angry soundings foot Bounds and spurns the angry mighty Brute, first run in the sand pit,…
The sweet smell of flowers Lies in the wet dewy grass Upon they wake of the dawn Of the day From dawn to dust they
the storm winds of autumn Make me shake by the lake The window pain rattle shake To ruffle a few wet feathers With birds singing by the lake
Yet you know upon you To let me suffer the pain The hurtfull strain in the Rain. Humilinate does you know sad
Thou dear jack frost To this freeze Thy hands and toes To look outside by the Frozen window pane
Still waters of the stream Row in my boat in the river Tay. Upon the swans of the lake Come up to side of the boat
O, come to talk to Thee O there is only thee O, I love the winters Nights
O, enough, we live - 0,and a life, O, with large results 0 and, so Little rife, O thy see it bearable 0 and see It worth,
what from this barran land can we reap? our fields are dry my body Frail Go on the trail before thy fail