William Wordsworth

The Forsaken

The peace which other seek they find; The heaviest storms not longest last; Heaven grants even to the guiltiest mind An amnesty for what is past; When will my sentence be reversed? I only pray to know the worst; And wish as if my heart would burst. O weary struggle! silent year Tell seemingly no doubtful tale; And yet they leave it short, and fear And hopes are strong and will prevail. My calmest faith escapes not pain; And, feeling that the hope in vain, I think that he will come again.

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