Classic poem of the day
Come to green under-glooms,—and in your hair
Weave nightshade, foxglove red, and rank wolfsbane,
And slumber and forget Him; if in vain
Ye try to slumber off your sorrow there,
Arise once more and openly repair
To busy haunts where men and women sigh,
And if all things but echo back your care,
Cry out aloud, ‘There is no God!’ and die.
But if upon a day when all is dark,
Thou, stooping in the public ways, shalt mark
Strange luminous fo......
