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Quotes about sere, page 4

Ambrose Bierce

The New 'Ulalume

The skies they were ashen and sober,
The leaves they were crisped and sere,
' ' ' withering ' '
It was night in the lonesome October
Of my most immemorial year;
It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,
' ' down ' ' dark tarn ' '
In the misty mid region of Weir,
' ' ghoul-haunted woodland ' '

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Very True, the Linnets Sing

Very true, the linnets sing
Sweetest in the leaves of spring:
You have found in all these leaves
That which changes and deceives,
And, to pine by sun or star,
Left them, false ones as they are.
But there be who walk beside
Autumn's, till they all have died,
And who lend a patient ear
To low notes from branches sere.

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It is not growing like a tree in bulk doth make man better be Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere, A lily of a day is fairer in May Although it fall and die that night, It was the plant of flower and light, In small proportions we just beauties see And in short measures, life may perfect be.

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The Pine

The elm lets fall its leaves before the frost,
The very oak grows shivering and sere,
The trees are barren when the summer's lost:
But one tree keeps its goodness all the year.

Green pine, unchanging as the days go by,
Thou art thyself beneath whatever sky:
My shelter from all winds, my own strong pine,
'Tis spring, 'tis summer, still, while thou art mine.

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It is not growing like a tree
in bulk doth make man better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere,
A lily of a day
is fairer in May
Although it fall and die that night,
It was the plant of flower and light,
In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures, life may perfect be.

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In Your Womb

Love is very important to you an dme,
But tell the story like it was and let the world hear it;
For the twins are now in your womb! !

Here, were, mere, sere!
And like a hairy garment in the land of your muse;
Dip, tip, sip, nip, hip, jip, kip, gip, lip, pip, quip, rip, yip, zip!
And like the kind of words spoken in the name of love,
But what pledge shall i give to you?

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Song

Love love to-day, my dear
Love is not always here
Wise maids know how soon grows sere
The greenest leaf of Spring.
But no man knoweth
Whither it goeth
When the wind bloweth
So frail a thing.

Love love, my dear, to-day
If the ship's in the bay
If the bird has come your way
That sings on summer trees.
When his song faileth
And the ship saileth
No voice availeth
To call back these.

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When Death Is Survival

The last of your family is
Gone. You are now alone to contemplate
Motionless sands or sere waves
In deep purple, crying oceans
To turn the tide of what could
Have been.
No family. No friends.
Just the bellyache of a vast hunger
For richness of thought,
For a dream of clear vision.

The rocks are one color alone.
You are one color alone as well.
Might as well join them.
There is no heaven or hell.

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WHY were ye Calliope embrawdered with letters of golde ?

CALLIOPE,
As ye may se,
Regent is she
Of poetes al,
Whiche gaue to me
The high degre
Laureat to be
Of fame royall ;
Whose name enrolde
With silke and golde
I dare be bolde
Thus for to were.
Of her I holde
And her householde ;
Though I waxe olde
And somdele sere,
Yet is she fayne,
Voyde of disdayn,
Me to retayn
Her seruiture :

[...] Read more

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Enough - Or Too Much -Wm Blake

Will it be uncouth
To be the wind,
Drinking from a fountain of youth-
Or is the sere service
Attire of old age
Respectable in more
Than one way-

With an eternity of
Clanging, cloying, noisy life,
There envelops no reduction
In strife, when the two
Entwine.

To life forever, then,
Is to be drudgery's
Forebearer:
The riling summer's heat,
Breathless winter's dearth,
Must be one with death

[...] Read more

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