To ---- .
Strange was the doom of Heracles, whose shade Had dwelling in dim Hades the unblest, While yet his form and presence sat a guest With the old immortals when the feast was made. Thine like, thus differs; form and presence laid In this dim chamber of enforcd rest, It is the unseen "shade" which, risen, hath pressed Above all heights where feet Olympian strayed. My soul admires to hear thee speak; thy thought Falls from a high place like an August star, Or some great eagle from his air-hung rings - When swooping past a snow-cold mountain scar - Down he steep slope of a long sunbeam brought, He stirs the wheat with the steerage of his wings.
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"Strange was the doom of Heracles, whose shade..."
This evocative piece by Jean Ingelow, titled "To ---- .", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...