The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.
Spring Storm; William Carlos Williams
The sky has given over its bitterness. Out of the dark change all day long rain falls and falls as if it would never end. Still the snow keeps its hold on the ground. But water, water from a thousand runnels! It collects swiftly, dappled with black cuts a way for itself through green ice in the gutters. Drop after drop it falls from the withered grass-stems of the overhanging embankment.
We sat down and wept by the waters Of Babel, and thought of the day When our foe, in the hue of his slaughters, Made Salem’s high places his prey; And ye, oh her desolate daughters! Were scattered all weeping away.
While sadly we gazed on the river Which rolled on in freedom below, They demanded the song; but, oh never That triumph the stranger shall know! May this right hand be withered for ever, Ere it string our high harp for the foe!
On the willow that harp is suspended, Oh Salem! Its sound should be free; And the hour when thy glories were ended But left me that token of thee: And ne’er shall its soft tones be blended With the voice of the spoiler by me!
On the sheep-cropped summit, under hot sun, The mouse crouched, staring out the chance It dared not take. Time and a world Too old to alter, the five mile prospect— Woods, villages, farms hummed its heat-heavy Stupor of life. Whether to two Feet or four, how are prayers contracted! Whether in God’s eye or the eye of a cat.
Short and poignant. Be blessed all my precious avids 👧💖
Snow would be the easy way out—that softening sky like a sigh of relief at finally being allowed to yield. No dice. We stack twigs for burning in glistening patches but the rain won’t give.
So we wait, breeding mood, making music of decline. We sit down in the smell of the past and rise in a light that is already leaving. We ache in secret, memorizing
a gloomy line or two of German. When spring comes we promise to act the fool. Pour, rain! Sail, wind, with your cargo of zithers!
Hi everyone. I saw this and found it fitting. All across the world I know everyone’s getting into the Christmas/Thanksgiving vibe, even in South Africa our stores are starting to play Christmas songs and put up decorations on Christmas trees. I wish you all a blessed Thursday and enjoy this time for holiday vibes–be it summer vibes or winter snowbells.
Remember, remember! The fifth of November, The Gunpowder treason and plot; I know of no reason Why the Gunpowder treason Should ever be forgot! Guy Fawkes and his companions Did the scheme contrive, To blow the King and Parliament All up alive. Threescore barrels, laid below, To prove old England’s overthrow. But, by God’s providence, him they catch, With a dark lantern, lighting a match! A stick and a stake For King James’s sake! If you won’t give me one, I’ll take two, The better for me, And the worse for you. A rope, a rope, to hang the Pope, A penn’orth of cheese to choke him, A pint of beer to wash it down, And a jolly good fire to burn him. Holloa, boys! holloa, boys! make the bells ring! Holloa, boys! holloa boys! God save the King! Hip, hip, hooor-r-r-ray!
SMILINDA and CARDELIA.CARDELIA. THE bassette-table spread, the tallier come, Why stays SMILINDA in the dressing-room ? Rise, pensive nymph ! the tallier stays for you.
SMILINDA. Ah ! Madam, since my SHARPER is untrue, I joyless make my once ador’d alpieu. I saw him stand behind OMBRELIA’s Chair, And whisper with that soft deluding air, And those feign’d sighs that cheat the list’ng fair —
CARDELIA. Is this the cause of your romantic strains ? A mightier grief my heavy heart sustains. As you by love, so I by fortune cross’d, In one bad deal three Septleva’s I lost.
Is that a grief which you compare with mine ? With ease the smiles of fortune I resign. Wou’d all my gold in one bad deal were gone, Were lovely SHARPFR mine, and mine alone.
A lover lost, is but a common care, And prudent nymphs against the change prepare. The queen of Clubs thrice lost ! Oh ! who cou’d guess This fatal stroke this unforeseen distress !
See ! BETTY LOVEIT very à propos ! She all the pains of love and play does know, Deeply experienc’d many years ago. Dear BETTY shall th’ important point decide, BETTY, who oft the pains of each has try’d : Impartial, she shall say who suffers most, By cards, ill-usage, or by lovers lost.
Tell, tell your griefs ; attentive will I stay, Tho’ time is precious, and I want some tea.
Behold this equipage by MATHERS wrought With fifty guineas (a great pen’orth !) bought ! See on the tooth-pick MARS and CUPID strive, And both the struggling figures seem to liue. Upon the bottom see the Queen’s bright face ; A myrtle foliage round the thimble case ; JOVE, JOVE himself does on the scissars shine, The metal and the workmanship divine.
This snuff-box once the pledge of SHARPER’s love, When rival beauties for the present strove, (At CORTICELLI’s he the raffle won, There first his passion was in public shown ; HAZARDIA blush’d, and turn’d her head aside, A rival’s envy all in vain to hide) This snuff-box — on the hinge see diamonds shine ; This snuff-box will I stake, the prize is mine.
Alas ! far lesser losses than I bear, Have made a soldier sigh, a lover swear : But oh ! what makes the disappointment hard, ‘Twas my own Lord who drew the fatal card ! — In complaisance I took the Queen he gave, Tho’ my own secret wish was for the Knave : The Knave won son ecart that I had chose, And the next pull my septleva I lose.
But ah ! what aggravates the killing smart, The cruel thought that stabs me to the heart, This curs’d OMBRELIA, this undoing fair, By whose vile arts this heavy grief I bear, She, at whose name I shed these spiteful tears, She owes to me, the very charms she wears : An aukward thing when first she came to town, Her shape unfinish’d and her face unknown ; She was my friend, I taught her first to spread Upon her sallow cheeks enlivening red, I introduc’d her to the park and plays, And by my Interest COSINS made her stays ; Ungrateful wretch ! with mimick airs grown pert, She dares to steal my favourite lover’s heart.
Wretch that I was ! how often have I swore, When WINNALL tallied, I would punt no more ! I know the bite, yet to my ruin run, And see the folly which I cannot shun.
How many maids have SHARPER’s vows deceiv’d ! How many curs’d the moment they believ’d ! Yet, his known falshood could no warning prove : Ah ! what are warnings to a maid in love !
But of what marble must that breast be form’d, Can gaze on Bassette, and remain unwarm’d ? When kings, queens, knaves are set in decent rank, Expos’d in glorious heaps the tempting bank ! Guineas, half-guineas, all the shining train, The Winner’s pleasure and the Loser’s pain ; In bright confusion open rouleaus lie, They strike the soul, and glitter in the eye ; Fir’d by the sight, all reason I disdain, My passions rise, and will not bear the rein : Look upon Bassette, you who Reason boast, And see if Reason may not there be lost !
What more than marble must that breast compose, That listens coldly to my SHARPER’s vows ! Then when he trembles, when his blushes rise, When awful Love seems melting in his eyes ! With eager beats his Mechlin cravat moves : He loves, I whisper to myself, He loves ! Such unfeign’d passion in his look appears, I lose all mem’ry of my former fears ; My panting heart confesses all his charms ; I yield at once, and sink into his arms. Think of that moment, you who Prudence boast ! For such a moment, Prudence well were lost.
At the Groom-porter’s, batter’d bullies play ; Some Dukes at Marybon bowl time away : But who the bowl or rattling dice compares To Bassette’s heavenly joys and pleasing cares ?
Soft SIMPLICETTA doats upon a beau ; PRUDINA likes a man, and laughs at show : Their several graces in my SHARPER meet ; Strong as the footman, as the master sweet.
Cease your contention, which has been too long, I grow impatient, and the tea too strong : Attend, and yield to what I now decide ; The equipage shall grace SMILINDA’s side ; The snuff-box to CARDELIA I decree ; So leave complaining, and begin your tea.
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God bless you all my darling avidReaders! Have a blessed Thursday 🙂