Home Sick

O time, great Healer! canst thou still

The crying hearts that feel the knife?

O great Restorer, canst thou fill

The wide gaps broken out of life

By love and duty’s bitter strife?

O Friend, and canst thou, as they say,

Soothe all our troubles on thy breast,

Till, calm in death, they pass away,

And, one by one, are laid to rest

In unknown graves, beyond our quest?

Nay, there’s a wound thou canst not ease;

Nay, there’s a sickness past thine art.

Ah me! while I’m beyond the seas,

There’ll be a sore place in my heart

That, at a touch, will throb and smart.

Nay, nay, with all thy skill-with all

The care and cunning thou mayst spend,

Thou canst but weakly patch the wall

That wrench of parting came to rend,

That gap no mason’s hand can mend.

And as for buried sorrows-one

Hears every sound above its head;

Joys and prosperities may run

With happy footsteps o’er the dead,-

This grief of absence feels the tread.

O Time, thy graveyard is a street-

Thy graves no sculptured records crown;

Yet this one, trod of many feet,

Still shows the heap’d earth, fresh and brown,-

No foot of joy can press it down.

There velvet mosses soon will creep,

And grey and golden lichens grow;

There sweet white snowdrops soon will peep,

And purple violets bud and blow,

From winter’s bosom, cloak’d in snow;

There summer lights and shades will fall,

And soft rains patter through the trees;

There slender grasses, frail and tall,

Will weave and whisper in the breeze-

‘Twill be a grave in spite of these.

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External links

Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus

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Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• Robert Burns: Written By Somebody On The Window Of an Inn at Stirling, on seeing the Royal Palace in ruin.: Of an Inn at Stirling, on seeing the Royal Palace in ruin. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: To Miss Ferrier: Enclosing the Elegy on Sir J. H. Blair. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Impromptu On Carron Iron Works: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Elegy On The Death Of Sir James Hunter Blair: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: On The Death Of John M’Leod, Esq,: Brother to a young Lady, a particular friend of the Author’s. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epigram To Miss Jean Scott: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Bard At Inverary: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Elegy On “Stella”: The following poem is the work of some hapless son of the Muses who deserved a better fate. There is a great deal of “The voice of Cona” in his solitary, mournful notes; and had the sentiments been clothed in Shenstone’s language, they would have been no discredit even to that elegant poet.-R.B. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Burlesque Lament For The Absence Of William Creech, Publisher: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epigram To Miss Ainslie In Church: Who was looking up the text during sermon. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Address To Wm. Tytler, Esq., Of Woodhouselee: With an Impression of the Author’s Portrait. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Hey, Ca’ Thro’ – Boat song: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epitaph For Mr. William Michie: Schoolmaster of Cleish Parish, Fifeshire. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epitaph For William Nicol, Of The High School, Edinburgh: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Lines Written Under The Picture Of The Celebrated Miss Burns: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: A Bottle And Friend: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: On Elphinstone’s Translation Of Martial’s Epigrams: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Book-Worms: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epigram Addressed To An Artist: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epigram At Roslin Inn: by Robert Burns

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Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees

Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.

Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

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