Poem by Jean Ingelow (1820-1897)


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Above the Clouds


    And can this be my own world?
        'Tis all gold and snow,
    Save where scarlet waves are hurled
        Down yon gulf below.
    'Tis thy world, 'tis my world,
        City, mead, and shore,
    For he that hath his own world
        Hath many worlds more.


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Written on 2023-09-11 at 00:13

Tags English  British  Victorian 

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Starting a poem with "And" and using arcaic language both are annoying affectations.