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This Living Hand
This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
And in the icy silence of the tomb,
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights
That thou wouldst wish thine own heart dry of blood
So in my veins red life might stream again,
And thou be conscience-calmed--see here it is--
I hold it towards you.
From: http://www.john-keats.com/phpboa ... der=asc&start=0
Note:
I have found this poem from John Keats Forum. it was written 1819-20. A perspective of death from the living, where the living might feel the force of the dead, and perhaps feel a little guilty. It's very different from any of his other poems.in this poem he sounds very menacing!
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[ 本帖最后由 怀抱花朵的孩子 于 2006-5-26 17:15 编辑 ] |
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