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Página 15 - FEAR no more the heat o' the sun Nor the furious winter's rages ; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages : Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...
Página 49 - Entreat for bread, and want the needful raiment, To wrap her shivering bosom from the weather? When she was mine, no care came ever nigh her. I thought the gentlest breeze that wakes the spring, Too rough to breathe upon her; cheerfulness Danced all the day before her; and at night Soft slumbers waited on her downy pillow — Now, sad and shelterless, perhaps, she lies Where piercing winds blow sharp, and the chill rain Drops from some pent-house on her wretched head, Drenches her locks, and kills...
Página 15 - As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' th' great, Thou art past the tyrant's stroke, Care no more to clothe and eat, To thee the reed is as the oak. The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust. Fear no more the lightning flash, .Nor th' all-dreaded thunder stone; Fear no slander, censure rash, Thou hast finish'd joy and moan.