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Best Famous Construe Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Construe poems. This is a select list of the best famous Construe poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Construe poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of construe poems.

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Written by Thomas Hardy | Create an image from this poem

The Lacking Sense Scene.--A sad-coloured landscape Waddon Vale

 I 

"O Time, whence comes the Mother's moody look amid her labours, 
 As of one who all unwittingly has wounded where she loves? 
 Why weaves she not her world-webs to according lutes and tabors, 
With nevermore this too remorseful air upon her face, 
 As of angel fallen from grace?" 

II 

- "Her look is but her story: construe not its symbols keenly: 
 In her wonderworks yea surely has she wounded where she loves.
The sense of ills misdealt for blisses blanks the mien most queenly, Self-smitings kill self-joys; and everywhere beneath the sun Such deeds her hands have done.
" III - "And how explains thy Ancient Mind her crimes upon her creatures, These fallings from her fair beginnings, woundings where she loves, Into her would-be perfect motions, modes, effects, and features Admitting cramps, black humours, wan decay, and baleful blights, Distress into delights?" IV - "Ah! know'st thou not her secret yet, her vainly veiled deficience, Whence it comes that all unwittingly she wounds the lives she loves? That sightless are those orbs of hers?--which bar to her omniscience Brings those fearful unfulfilments, that red ravage through her zones Whereat all creation groans.
V "She whispers it in each pathetic strenuous slow endeavour, When in mothering she unwittingly sets wounds on what she loves; Yet her primal doom pursues her, faultful, fatal is she ever; Though so deft and nigh to vision is her facile finger-touch That the seers marvel much.
VI "Deal, then, her groping skill no scorn, no note of malediction; Not long on thee will press the hand that hurts the lives it loves; And while she dares dead-reckoning on, in darkness of affliction, Assist her where thy creaturely dependence can or may, For thou art of her clay.
"


Written by Edmund Spenser | Create an image from this poem

Sonnet XLIII

 SHall I then silent be or shall I speake?
And if I speake, her wrath renew I shall:
and if I silent be, my hart will breake,
or choked be with ouerflowing gall.
What tyranny is this both my hart to thrall, and eke my toung with proud restraint to tie? that nether I may speake nor thinke at all, but like a stupid stock in silence die.
Yet I my hart with silence secretly will teach to speak, and my iust cause to plead: and eke mine eies with meeke humility, loue learned letters to her eyes to read.
Which her deep wit, that true harts thought can spel, wil soone conceiue, and learne to construe well.
Written by Fernando Pessoa | Create an image from this poem

Good. I have done. My heart weighs. I am sad

Good. I have done. My heart weighs. I am sad.

The outer day, void statue of lit blue,

Is altogether outward, other, glad

At mere being not-I (so my aches construe).

I, that have failed in everything, bewail

Nothing this hour but that I have bewailed,

For in the general fate what is't to fail?

Why, fate being past for Fate, 'tis but to have failed.

Whatever hap-or stop, what matters it,

Sith to the mattering our will bringeth nought?

With the higher trifling let us world our wit,

Conscious that, if we do't, that was the lot

The regular stars bound us to, when they stood

Godfathers to our birth and to our blood.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things