Poems about charge
We Nearer Steal To Take Away
and tell him charge thee speak it plain
and carried me away
beyond the trait to take away
the only one i meet
i cannot see a spoke
i don't know him; snugly built!
that i might look on thee?
we nearer steal to thee!
i held so high, for thee
i offered being for it
then i my timid service done
I Fear That Never Wrote To Me
and tell him charge thee speak it plain
how sweet i shall not lack in vain
they may not finally say, yes
i'm glad they did believe it
that never wrote to me
i have another trust"
i learned at least what home could be
i need no further argue
for thinking while i die
i fear that he is grand
Why It Be Possible
lest this beloved charge
the whole of me forever
the grace that i was chose
and why it was so still
as small they say as i
are we that wait sufficient worth
in doubtful meal, if it be possible
to hands i cannot see
for you know we do not mind our dress
and they can put it with my dolls,
were he to tell extremely sorry
Now The Only One
my face to justify
there's not a charge to me
and now the chance had come
mine was the only one
the first that i could recollect
i dared to show a tress of theirs
to one who never felt it blaze
The One
she had begun to lie
who knows but at the sight of that
and fear is like the one
and then a day as huge
the missing all prevented me
strange that the feet so precious charged
I Hung Upon The Same
and tell him charge thee speak it plain
but tell him that it ceased to feel
where it used to be
i know not which, desire, or grant
and this one do not feel the same
what and if it be
because i cannot see
so satisfied to go
came out to look at me -
feeling as if their pillow heard,
i hung upon the peg, at night,
i pondered, may have judged,
i would not weep if i were they
and the day that i despaired
when was it can you tell
For Thee!
my justice bleeds for thee!
no need hadst thou of us"?
and tell him charge thee speak it plain
i could not deem it late to hear
he could suffice for me
life is what we make of it
to no one that you know
all this and more if i should tell
the day that i shall go
the way i read a letter's this
for just this single time
the plenty hurt me 'twas so new
i'll hand it to the angel
won't you wish you'd spoken
why didn't we detain them?
So Out Of A Sort Of A
and fixity in our joys,
that gathers on the pane in empty rooms,
as on a farm, but planets, evening stars
years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground
for such a charge, his snow upon the roof,
and whispers with a sort of stifled bark,
out of a house and so out of a farm
and you're two months back in the middle of march,
To Raise Herself And Look Again, He Had
no matter the heart he has in charge
there he had built his stolen shack,
the heart he bore to the holy land,
to raise herself and look again, he spoke
before he arrives to say it out,
half in appeal, but half as if to keep
hard if, though cast away for life with yankees,
Somehow The Roof,
some sympathy was wasted on the house,
for such a charge, his snow upon the roof,
somehow the change wore out like a prescription,
a flower unplucked is but left to the falling,
to white rest, and a place of rest