To God: On His Sickness.
What though my harp and viol be Both hung upon the willow tree? What though my bed be now my grave, And for my house I darkness have? What though my healthful days are fled, And I lie number'd with the dead? Yet I have hope, by Thy great power, To spring; though now a wither'd flower.
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"What though my harp and viol be..."
This evocative piece by Robert Herrick, titled "To God: On His Sickness.", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...