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A Poem by John Milton: Sonnet 22

Sonnet 22 XXII Cyriac, this three years’ day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or …

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سروده ای از مولانا جلال الدین محمد بلخی (مولوی) : شنیدن دقوقی در میان نماز افغان آن کشتی کی غرق خواست شدن

‫ ‬‫ شنیدن دقوقی در میان نماز افغان آن کشتی کی غرق خواست شدن . آن دقوقی در امامت کرد ساز اندر آن ساحل در آمد در نماز و آن جماعت در پی او در قیام اینت زیبا قوم و …

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A poem by Walt Whitman: A Riddle Song

  A Riddle Song THAT which eludes this verse and any verse, Unheard by sharpest ear, unform’d in clearest eye or cunningest mind, Nor lore nor fame, nor happiness nor wealth, And yet the pulse of every heart and life …

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A Poem by John Milton: Sonnet 21

Sonnet 21 XXI Cyriac, whose grandsire on the royal bench Of British Themis, with no mean applause Pronounced and in his volumes taught our laws, Which others at their bar so often wrench; Today deep thoughts resolve with me to …

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A Poem by William Blake: Fair Elanor

Fair Elanor The bell struck one, and shook the silent tower; The graves give up their dead: fair Elenor Walk’d by the castle gate, and lookèd in. A hollow groan ran thro’ the dreary vaults. She shriek’d aloud, and sunk …

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A Poem by John Milton: Sonnet 20

Sonnet 20 XX Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won From the hard …

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سروده ای از مولانا جلال الدین محمد بلخی (مولوی) : انبیا گویند روز چاره رفت

‫ ‬‫ بیان اشارت سلام سوی دست راست در قیامت از هیبت محاسبه حق از انبیا استعانت و شفاعت خواستن . انبیا گویند روز چاره رفت چاره آنجا بود و دست‌افزار زفت مرغ بی‌هنگامی ای بدبخت رو ترک ما گو …

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A Poem by John Milton: Sonnet 19

Sonnet 19 XIX When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To …

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A poem by William Ernest Henley: Anterotics

Anterotics   Laughs the happy April morn Thro’ my grimy, little window, And a shaft of sunshine pushes Thro’ the shadows in the square. Dogs are tracing thro’ the grass, Crows are cawing round the chimneys, In and out among …

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A Poem by John Milton: Sonnet 18

Sonnet 18 XVIII Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the Royal Bench Of Brittish Themis, with no mean applause Pronounc’t and in his volumes taught our Lawes, Which others at their Barr so often wrench: To day deep thoughts resolve with me …

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