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    Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Work Without Hope

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    poetictouch

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    Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Work Without Hope - Read by Gideon Wagner

    Work Without Hope
    by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)

    All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair —
    The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing —
    And Winter, slumbering in the open air,
    Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
    And I, the while, the sole unbusy thing,
    Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.

    Yet well I ken the banks where amaranths blow,
    Have traced the fount whence streams of nectar flow.
    Bloom, O ye amaranths! bloom for whom ye may,
    For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams, away!
    With lips unbrightened, wreathless brow, I stroll:
    And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul?
    Work without Hope draws nectar in a sieve,
    And Hope without an object cannot live.