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<p><head><hi rend="underline">Monday Morning</hi></head></p> | |||
'' | <p>The Sun is come forth, – & the night is retiring<lb/> | ||
And the fields are all sparkling with diamonds of dew<lb/> | |||
And the toils of the week, – all our ardor requiring<lb/> | |||
<del>Their claims on our energies waken</del> <add>To the stern path of duty invite us</add> anew.</p> | |||
<p>How vexed the road & how different the doom<lb/> | |||
Which <del>the</del> <add>to</add> pilgrims of earth in their journey are given!<lb/> | |||
Some walk o'er the flowrets of joy to the tomb<lb/> | |||
And some o'er the rocks of misfortune to heaven.</p> | |||
<p><gap/> in your hut which the mean rushes cover<lb/> | |||
How <del>sorrow</del> <add>want holds her court; &</add> sits frowningly <del>eternally</del> there;<lb/> | |||
In your palace the full tide of plenty flows over<lb/> | |||
<del>Profusion</del> <add>And</add> wealth fills the board & profusion the air</p> | |||
<p>I looked & I saw the insulting oppression<lb/> | |||
<del>On the</del> He <del>trod</del> <add>trampled alike</add> on the <del>virtues</del> good & the wise<lb/> | |||
Distress sigh'd in vain – there was no <unclear>cue</unclear> to bless her<del>e</del><lb/> | |||
And insult & mockery laugh'd at her sighs.</p> | |||
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{{Metadata:{{PAGENAME}}}} | {{Metadata:{{PAGENAME}}}}{{Completed}} | ||
Monday Morning
The Sun is come forth, – & the night is retiring
And the fields are all sparkling with diamonds of dew
And the toils of the week, – all our ardor requiring
Their claims on our energies waken To the stern path of duty invite us anew.
How vexed the road & how different the doom
Which the to pilgrims of earth in their journey are given!
Some walk o'er the flowrets of joy to the tomb
And some o'er the rocks of misfortune to heaven.
in your hut which the mean rushes cover
How sorrow want holds her court; & sits frowningly eternally there;
In your palace the full tide of plenty flows over
Profusion And wealth fills the board & profusion the air
I looked & I saw the insulting oppression
On the He trod trampled alike on the virtues good & the wise
Distress sigh'd in vain – there was no cue to bless here
And insult & mockery laugh'd at her sighs.
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Identifier: | JB/110/243/001"JB/" can not be assigned to a declared number type with value 110. |
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110 |
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243 |
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001 |
monday morning |
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collectanea |
3 |
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recto |
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sir john bowring |
[[watermarks::[partial motif] 18<…>]] |
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36233 |
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