Written by
Emily Dickinson |
Conscious am I in my Chamber,
Of a shapeless friend --
He doth not attest by Posture --
Nor Confirm -- by Word --
Neither Place -- need I present Him --
Fitter Courtesy
Hospitable intuition
Of His Company --
Presence -- is His furthest license --
Neither He to Me
Nor Myself to Him -- by Accent --
Forfeit Probity --
Weariness of Him, were quainter
Than Monotony
Knew a Particle -- of Space's
Vast Society
Neither if He visit Other --
Do He dwell -- or Nay -- know I --
But Instinct esteem Him
Immortality --
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Written by
Emily Dickinson |
Shame is the shawl of Pink
In which we wrap the Soul
To keep it from infesting Eyes --
The elemental Veil
Which helpless Nature drops
When pushed upon a scene
Repugnant to her probity --
Shame is the tint divine.
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Written by
Francesco Petrarch |
SONNET CXIV.
O d' ardente virtute ornata e calda.
HE CELEBRATES LAURA'S BEAUTY AND VIRTUE.
O mind, by ardent virtue graced and warm'd.
To whom my pen so oft pours forth my heart;
Mansion of noble probity, who art
A tower of strength 'gainst all assault full arm'd.
O rose effulgent, in whose foldings, charm'd,
We view with fresh carnation snow take part!
O pleasure whence my wing'd ideas start
[Pg 144]To that bless'd vision which no eye, unharm'd,
Created, may approach—thy name, if rhyme
Could bear to Bactra and to Thule's coast,
Nile, Tanaïs, and Calpe should resound,
And dread Olympus.
—But a narrower bound
Confines my flight: and thee, our native clime
Between the Alps and Apennine must boast.
Capel Lofft.
With glowing virtue graced, of warm heart known,
Sweet Spirit! for whom so many a page I trace,
Tower in high worth which foundest well thy base!
Centre of honour, perfect, and alone!
O blushes! on fresh snow like roses thrown,
Wherein I read myself and mend apace;
O pleasures! lifting me to that fair face
Brightest of all on which the sun e'er shone.
Oh! if so far its sound may reach, your name
On my fond verse shall travel West and East,
From southern Nile to Thule's utmost bound.
But such full audience since I may not claim,
It shall be heard in that fair land at least
Which Apennine divides, which Alps and seas surround.
Macgregor.
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Written by
Rg Gregory |
against their beliefs a blue spot came slowly
out of the green
nobody expected such a thing to occur
on a thursday
the watchers switched over from their electronic
eye to their notes
the evidence undeniably placed thursday as the day
of the pink circle
they recorded having seen another pink circle
in a strange light
which had (explainably) created the illusion of
being a blue spot
(blue from green on a thursday meaning disaster)
no one need panic
to ease minds they laid a complaint against the probity
of the machine
the next thursday the pink circle again appeared
to be a blue spot
the watchers congratulated themselves upon the circle's
sense of humour
and on the next thursday the earth came out in a
rash of blue spots
the watchers (finding themselves sitting on one) were
the first to die
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