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poems for my friends

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December 9, 2008

No indolent dreaming dawdler am I,

Nor am *******, while riches I descry.

Life’s heaving tides of woe shall spare me not,

Unless I, its unblocked courses defy


Grave harm have lovers to themselves done,

Loving, ere understanding life begun,

They, with with’ered and wasted souls,

After vile, though pretty-faced creatures run.


When my hands from brimming cups weakly shook,

I awoke, ere sense my wined mind forsook.

Shunning choice wines, as rich as purest gold,

I, of spring showers silv’ry draught partook


Courage to reason second place must take.

For valour should not balanced judgment shake.

But if both in a hard soul united are,

Then Glory’s realms their own demesne shall make


thanke you my friends i hope you like it see yaaaaaa