<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=424491" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>My throat is sore</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My throat is sore, my voice is hoarse with skriking,<br>My rests are sighs, deep from the heart’s root fetched;<br>My song runs all on sharps, and with oft striking<br>Time on my breast, I shrink with hands outstretched;<br>Thus still, and still I sing, and ne’er am linning, <br>For still the close points to my first beginning.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Wilbye">John Wilbye</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=424491" data-title="My throat is sore de John Wilbye" data-description="My throat is sore, my voice is hoarse with skriking, My rests are sighs, deep from the heart’s root fetched; My song runs all on sharps, and with oft striking Time on my breast, I shrink with hands outstretched; Thus still, and still I sing, and..."></div> </div> </div>

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