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■ The oak
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2008-03-07 | | Submited by Marius Surleac
“Oh, For The Time When I Shall Sleep”
By Emily Brontë “Oh, for the time when I shall sleep Without identity, And never care how rain may steep, Or snow may cover me! No promised heaven these wild desires Could all, or half, fulful; No threatened hell, with quenchless fires, Subdue this quenchless will! So said I, and still say the same; Still, to my death, will say— Three gods within this little frame Are warring night and day: Heaven could not hold them all, and yet They all are held in me; And must be mine till I forget My present entity! Oh, for the time when in my breast Their struggles will be o'er! Oh, for the day when I shall rest, And never suffer more!”
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