Their faces are all worn, and in their eyes
Flashes the fire of sadness, for they see
The icicles that famish all the North,
Where men lie frozen in the glimmering snow;
And in the flaming forests cower the lion
And lioness, with all their whimpering cubs;
And, ever pacing on the verge of things,
The phantom, Beauty, in a mist of tears;
While we alone have round us woven woods,
And feel the softness of each other’s hand,
Amrita, while...
2007-03-14 18:23:49
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answer #1
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answered by Vijaya 2
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Their faces are all worn, and in their eyes
Flashes the fire of sadness,
2007-03-15 01:27:18
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answer #2
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answered by altered ego 3
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