What pleasure can we have to war with evil?
lamentation and an ancient tale of wrong, Like a tale of little meaning tho the words are strong; Chanted from an ill-used race of men that cleave the soil, 165 Sow the seed, and reap the harvest with enduring toil, Storing yearly little dues of wheat, and wine and oil; Till they perish and they suffer—some, tis whisperd—down in hell Suffer endless anguish, others in Elysian valleys dwell, Resting weary limbs at last on beds of asphodel. 170 Surely, surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, ...
Author: tachelbel211; Tags: poetry tennyson baudelaire drugged poets drugs opium opioid lotos-eaters lotus island lotophagoi odyssey trip epic tale classical tradition memory forgetting downer relief painkillers sleep wake death dream poppy remembrance papaver somniferous plants rest
