What Is Life?John Clare (1793-1864) AND what is Life?—An hour-glass on the run,A mist retreating from the morning sun,A busy, bustling, still repeated dream.—Its length?—A
The WindhoverGerard Manley Hopkins To Christ Our Lord I caught this morning morning’s minion, king- dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding Of
The Best of SchoolD.H. Lawrence The blinds are drawn because of the sun,And the boys and the room in a colourless gloomOf underwater float: bright
A Postcard from the Volcano by Wallace Stevens Children picking up our bones . . .
*shakes dust off of blog* Finnegans Wake (1939) riverrun, past Eve and Adam’s, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus
The Beautiful Changes One wading a Fall meadow finds on all sides The Queen Anne’s Lace lying like lilies On water; it glides So from