Air Castle My lifes tomorrow beckons me From distant mountains, high and low My future seems a boundless sea When moving passions come and go Deep in my heart Ambition dwells He cheers me up the highland way And guides me through the hills and dells Wherein I pass the busy day I cannot write with Shakespeares pen But I can write with Shakespeares heart I love his skill, his craft of men His mastery of poets art I do not care for fame as he Enthroned, was like unto a god The depth he reached are dark to me But I will grope the ways he trod I wear achie vements coronet For blest are they who see! things done And all my cares I soon forget When I have wrought my work alone If I be met by adverse Fate And all my dreams be but in vain Then must I work the harder yet With high resolve to try again. phraseology: Beckons 1. to summon with a gesture of the hand or top 2. to entice or lure Dells 1. a small, unremarkably wooded valley; vale. Grope 1. to feel about with the hand; feel ones way 2. to search blindly or falteringly Trod 1. a simple past tense and...If you command to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com
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