The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere.
And over the pond are sailing Two swans all white as snow; Sweet voices mysteriously wailing Pierce through me as onward they go. They sail along, and a ringing Sweet melody rises on high; And when the swans begin singing, They presently must die.Heinrich Heine
The melancholy days have come, the saddest of the year. Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sear.william cullen bryant
The UN and the mainstream media are wailing and accusing Israel of war crimes (yes, again) after the IDF returned fire at a UN school from which Palestinians were firing mortars. The explosives and booby traps installed in the school by Hamas then blew up, killing dozens of people. And the world blames Israel.charles foster johnson
Instead of scurrying into a corner and wailing about what media are doing to us, one should charge straight ahead and kick them in the electrodes.Marshall McLuhan
A cloud was on the mind of men, and wailing went the weather, Yea, a sick cloud upon the soul when we were boys together. Science announced nonentity and art admired decay; The world was old and ended : but you and I were gay ; Round us in antic order their crippled vices came Lust that had lost its laughter , fear that had lost its shame .
The wailing owl Screams solitary to the mournful moon.
An immortality of pain and tears; an infinity of wretchedness and despair; the blackness of darkness across which conscience will forever shoot her clear and ghastly flashes, like lightning streaming over a desert when midnight and tempest are there; weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth; long, long eternity, and things that will make eternity seem longer, making each moment seem eternity, oh, miserable condition of the damned!
Now deeper roll the maddening drums, And the mingling host like ocean heaves: While from the midst, a horrid wailing comes, And high above the fight the lonely bugle grieves.
The waves Of the mysterious death-river moaned; The tramp, the shout, the fearful thunder-roar Of red-breathed cannon, and the wailing cry Of myriad victims, filled the air.
It is the winterwind that blows, wailing all night long, wailing for the far-off day; the branches toss, the boughs sway, it is the winterwind that blows... And the winds of winter sing a song of loneliness and silent sorrow; echo-less their lament dies away over the empty veld in the night, sighing through the grass seeds, and drawn is far away.
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