Calm
Have patience, O my sorrow, and be still. You asked for night: it falls: it is here. A shadowy atmosphere enshrouds the hill, to some men bringing peace, to others care. While the vile human multitude goes to earn remorse, in servile pleasures play, under the lash of joy, the torturer, who is pitiless, Sadness, come, far away: Give me your hand. See, where the lost years lean from the balcony in their outdated gear, where regret, smiling, surges from the watery deeps. Underneath some archway, the dying light sleeps, and, like a long shroud trailing from the East, listen, dear one, listen to the soft onset of night.
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Have patience, O my sorrow, and be still...."
Charles Baudelaire's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Calm"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...