?. Mother, I cannot mind my wheel
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Mother, I cannot mind my wheel;
My fingers ache, my lips are dry:
O, if you feel the pain I feel!
But O, who ever felt as I?
No longer could I doubt him true -
All other men may use deceit;
He always said my eyes were blue,
And often swore my lips were sweet.
?. Magna est veritas
Language:
English
Authorship
See other settings of this text
Here, in this little Bay,
Full of tumultuous life and great repose,
Where, twice a day,
The purposeless, glad ocean comes and goes,
Under high cliffs, and far from the huge town,
I sit me down.
For want of me the world's course will not fail:
When all its work is done, the lie shall rot;
The truth is great, and shall prevail,
When none cares whether it prevail or not.
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