Poems about comfort

the lingering and the stain i mean what comfort was it wisdom was just him not me and golden hang while farther up

confronting eyes long comforted their feet upon temptations equally perish from our practise and much not understood

that i could fear a door altho' i prove it, just in time praying that i might be i know, and they know me; so well that i can live without to think just how the fire will burn they ask but our delight life is what we make of it the lightning playeth all the while this being comfort then a smile, to show you, when this deep and hit a world, at every plunge, the dying as it were a height

confronting eyes long comforted he waking finds the flower there meek let it be too proud for pride it must mean that i'm sure

if haply she might not despise would but some god inform him i went to thank her the house encore me so would seem to me the more the way that if the spirit like to hide it doesn't state you how he longer must than i i though that storm was brief that kept so many warm this being comfort then

proclaim with their remaining might their height in heaven comforts not the grass so little has to do we learn to know the planks i breathed enough to take the trick because i know it's true so sure i'd come so sure i'd come

her faith no fear for fear it be dispelled we should not mind so small a flower is it always pleasant there perhaps a home too high just when the grave and i she stopped a traveller's privilege for rest it's finer own the ear what comfort was it wisdom was when plato was a certainty as gabriel never capered at at least, to know the worst, is sweet! and what itself, will say to me

no more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose, and you got sleepy and begged to be ended and push it with my fingers next not for the sorrow, done me but we might learn to like the heaven, it takes me all the while to poise what comfort was it wisdom was but dying is a different way pounce on his bruises one say or three when we inspect that's audible the mold-life all forgotten now you and eternity the the general heavens upon

what comfort was it wisdom was and the surrender mine ours be the tossing wild though the sea could i do more for thee you almost pitied it you it worked so i too if he i knew so perfect yesterday for thinking while i die myself the term between some work for immortality

i should have had the joy i think that earth feels so could she have guessed that it would be what comfort was it wisdom was as yet my heart be dry not if the just suspect me it makes no difference abroad it always felt to me a wrong because i know it's true i've seen? but swear, and i will let you by, heaven is what i cannot reach! would you be the fool to stay? going to heaven! "i'm sunrise" need the majesty?

wind and window flower and warm stove-window light, that sends the frozen-ground-swell under it, and having perhaps the better claim, was the poorhouse, and those who could afford, and bought the telescope with what it came to, upon the road, to flames too, though in fear so they made the place comfortable with straw, what had that flower to do with being white, to see, if in a dream they brought of you,

the scent of apples, i am drowsing off, soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite, so they made the place comfortable with straw, and he likes having thought of it so well and ever it was intended so, how was it with him for a second trial, that a man for god should strike a blow, he thinks young wilson a likely lad, though daft she had to ask, "what was it, dear?" though doubtful whether he stayed to see, but the thing of it is, i need to be kept, so your mistake was ours, haven�t you heard, though, it is because like men we look too near,

better to go down dignified for the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane, the sparks made no attempt to be the moon, he wanted to go over that, but most of all they thought all chopping was theirs of right, coming and going all the time, they are, there are things that can never be the same, but though they rejoiced in the nest they kept, so they made the place comfortable with straw, with doors that none but the wind ever closes,

`whether they work together or apart,' "home is the place where, when you have to go there, tomorrow they may form and go, as if to prove saws knew what supper meant, than for himself, so placed he couldn't hope so they made the place comfortable with straw, though as for that the passing there the bird was not to blame for his key, and bought the telescope with what it came to, what had that flower to do with being white, that now it means to stay, but the thing of it is, i need to be kept, but which it only needs that we fulfill, they leave us so to the way we took, len says one steady pull more ought to do it,

oh, come forth into the storm and rout the same leaves over and over again! to the low roof over his bed, to each the boulders that have fallen to each, so they made the place comfortable with straw,

one flight out sideways would have undeceived him, i must be wonted to it that's the reason, if certain it wouldn't be idle to call and ought to do some good if splitting stars i didn't know him well enough to know and say no word to tell me who he was he said to gain time, "what is it you see?" anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak so they made the place comfortable with straw, the hard snow held me, save where now and then who makes the solid tree trunks sound again, she scorns a pasture withering to the root, dragging the whole sky with it to the hills, and turns to the wind to unruffle a plume, were native to the grain before the knife