Poetry: Keble – Good Friday

"Wash me, and dry these bitter tears,       O let my heart no further roam,    ’Tis Thine by vows, and hopes, and fears.       Long since—O call Thy wanderer home; To that dear home, safe in Thy wounded side, Where only broken hearts their sin and shame may hide."

Poetry: Hardy – The Darkling Thrush

"An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small, In blast-beruffled plume, Had chosen thus to fling his soul Upon the growing gloom."

Poetry: Thomas – Do not go gentle into that good night

Do not go gentle into that good night,Old age should burn and rave at close of day;Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right,Because their words had forked no lightning theyDo not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying …

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Poetry: Frost – In a Disused Graveyard

"The living come with grassy tread To read the gravestones on the hill; The graveyard draws the living still, But never any more the dead."

Poetry: Coleridge – Epitaph

Stop, Christian passer-by!—Stop, child of God,And read with gentle breast. Beneath this sodA poet lies, or that which once seemed he.O, lift one thought in prayer for S. T. C.;That he who many a year with toil of breathFound death in life, may here find life in death!Mercy for praise—to be forgiven for fameHe asked, …

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