My tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.
I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble;
It is so sad and beautiful,
So tremulously like a dream.
- Gerard Manley Hopkins O Death, Death, He is come. O grounds of Hell make room. Who came from further than the stars Now comes as low beneath.…
- Dorothy Sayers, as found in the novel Gaudy Night Here, then, at home, by no more storms distrest, Folding laborious hands we sit, wings furled;…
- William Shakespeare Why is my verse so barren of new pride, So far from variation or quick change? Why with the time do I not glance aside To…