The CP and I are off to the countryside for the weekend; enjoy a little taste of Coleridge’s “Monody on the Death of Chatterton” (second version).
O what a wonder seems the fear of death,
Seeing how gladly we all sink to sleep,
Babes, Children, Youths, and Men,
Night following night for threescore years and ten!
But doubly strange, where life is but a breath
To sigh and pant with, up Want’s rugged steep.
I am liking this stuff. And I’ll be back in time for Sunday Salon!
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