Tuesday, August 6, 2019

White Hotel North American Fighting The Residency [Full Poem] [Temp. 0.475]

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     1
     The dead are true the men shall cross
     The soul that thou wilt not all not talk about
         For you the blood stars on the sun.

     So sweet the storms of all the bells you may be spoiled,
     And the seasons sing in my lips,
     And with a spot to the dewy street,
     And in the dead distress from pale contract the flower that fills
     A frail belly from the stars of the mountains holding their smiles,
         Whilst them falls in the starry water,
         And the strength of the storm spreads the rain--
         Whilst the dead and more that will arrange
         And some the moon and light.

     Then the grave is wild,
         And the green stream she spake
         On the tent of the road.

     The glorious scholar crystalled strength
       And blossoms with the drop and thunder reach,
     And when some nerves and fancies spare of meaning,
         And the charming scenes of martyrs, blessed,
         And in the sacred streets that struggle stars,
     And all the sprigs, and soul the spirit starts the flowers.
     And this the window sits away,
     Where shall be born to see,
     When this sad perfect day
       In this the window stands,
     Then lies alone the waves of water
         The deep strains of the sun slipped,
         And all the world a glorious grace,
         And the ancient stars are stars through the sky,
         Where the dewy stars the lights stand wide,
         Whilst haste the wave of stone
         Of the world that thou wert struggled
         A silent state of the storm,
         The rain that in the flower alone.
         The spare which, thro' the grave--
         The long hair is there with the scene,
         And the bell for the descent,
         Struggling through the stream of death,
         The silence of the world made flower.
         When with the walls remain,
         And the common plot of paramour.
         For the mighty undertown,
         And that which was the first of fame,
         By bear in my densare stars.
               Where are the strains
         Of the soul the day?
         The strength of pleasure fair?
             The bones of fair brown space
         And the yellow reason of the gloom.
         On the space where it went on the side
               The chant of water,
         Whilst the devouring of the season
               From the sea of the form,
         Strains and blue clouds of heavenly shade,
         Or did their father were spread the bands of more.
     Had ever stronger that word hath so forth as if they go,
     And sing and soft the souls of higher there;
     And may I love a Cardinal out,
     And shall we tell his speech on her 
         To infideled the soul 
     That never saw a conceit to the scene, 
     And the morning's breath the strength shines here. 
A man that shall not live because 
         The units day of day, 
     Then the palace stars and heads 
                                                   White Hotel North American Fighting The Residency

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