the cenci's dream.
85
In ineffable azure we make thee;—but in regions of twilight,
We spread for our father, the rue—great meadows of rue—
Round and under still, rue—which means sorrow, and sorrow, and sorrow."
We spread for our father, the rue—great meadows of rue—
Round and under still, rue—which means sorrow, and sorrow, and sorrow."
O pity!—some heart's-ease for him, too!
"Nay, listen! when ages
And ages have told their slow tale in the rock, there shall haply
Go forth on its timorous venture to heaven, some breathing,
Sigh of a soul for its lost and never-returning,—
For a love that was trampled, a peace that was murdered, a goodness
Flung back with incredible mockings—and thenceforth our father,
And ages have told their slow tale in the rock, there shall haply
Go forth on its timorous venture to heaven, some breathing,
Sigh of a soul for its lost and never-returning,—
For a love that was trampled, a peace that was murdered, a goodness
Flung back with incredible mockings—and thenceforth our father,
