SONG OF NUNS
by: James Shirley
- FLY, my soul! what hangs upon
- Thy drooping wings,
- And weighs them down
- With love of gaudy mortal things?
-
- The Sun is now i' the east; each shade,
- As he doth rise,
- Is shorter made,
- That earth may lessen to our eyes.
-
- Oh, be not careless then and play
- Until the star of peace
- Hide all his beams in dark recess.
- Poor pilgrims needs must lose their way
- When all the shadows do increase.
'Song of Nuns' was originally published
in The Imposture (1652). |
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POEMS BY JAMES SHIRLEY |
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