Wirastrua
Wirastrua, wirastrua, woe to me that you are dead! The corpse has spoken from out his bed, Yesternight my burning brain Throbbed and beat on the strings of pain: Now I rest, all my dreamings done, In the world behind the sun. Yesterday I toiled full sore, To-day I ride in a coach and four. Yesternight in the streets I lay, To-night with kings, and as good as they. Wirastrua! wirastrua! would I were lying as cold as you.
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"Wirastrua, wirastrua, woe to me that you are dead!..."
"Wirastrua" is a quintessential example of Dora Sigerson Shorter's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...