To A Young Lady. On Her Recovery From A Fever Poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

To A Young Lady. On Her Recovery From A Fever

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Why need I say, Louisa dear!
How glad I am to see you here,
A lovely convalescent;
Risen from the bed of pain and fear,
And feverish heat incessant.

The sunny showers, the dappled sky,
The little birds that warble high,
Their vernal loves commencing,
Will better welcome you than I
With their sweet influencing.

Believe me, while in bed you lay,
Your danger taught us all to pray:
You made us grow devouter!
Each eye looked up and seemed to say
How can we do without her?

Besides, what vexed us worse, we knew,
They have no need of such as you
In the place where you were going:
This World has angels all too few,
And Heaven is overflowing!

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Solomon Senxer 12 September 2019

Believe me, while in bed you lay, Your danger taught us all to pray: You made us grow devouter! Each eye looked up and seemed to say How can we do without her? this makes me laugh...

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maeve 13 December 2018

I think this poem is good.

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