<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536249" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On My Songs</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though unseen Poets, many and many a time,<br>Have answered me as if they knew my woe,<br>And it might seem have fashioned so their rime<br>To be my own soul's cry; easing the flow<br>Of my dumb tears with language sweet as sobs,<br>Yet are there days when all these hoards of thought<br>Hold nothing for me. Not one verse that throbs<br>Throbs with my heart, or as my brain is fraught.<br>'Tis then I voice mine own weird reveries:<br>Low croonings of a motherless child, in gloom<br>Singing his frightened self to sleep, are these.<br>One night, if thou shouldst lie in this Sick Room,<br>Dreading the Dark thou darest not illume,<br>Listen; my voice may haply lend thee ease.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Wilfred+Owen">Wilfred Owen</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=536249" data-title="On My Songs de Wilfred Owen" data-description="Though unseen Poets, many and many a time, Have answered me as if they knew my woe, And it might seem have fashioned so their rime To be my own soul's cry; easing the flow Of my dumb tears with language sweet as sobs, Yet are there days when all t..."></div> </div> </div>

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