“They saw their injured country's woe;
The flaming town, the wasted field;
Then rushed to meet the insulting foe;
They took the spear, - but left the shield.”
―Philip Freneau
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And by a prudent flight and cunning save A life which valour could not, from the grave. A better buckler I can soon regain, But who can get another life again?
Archilochus
I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain –– and back in rain. I have outwalked the farthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet When far away an interrupted cry Came over houses from another street, But not to call me back or say good-bye; And further still at an unearthly height, One luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. I have been one acquainted with the night.
5 comments:
Sad!
Depressing!
Enervating!
The Music of Alienation, Degeneration and Capitulation!
...there's a lot of that going around.
YEAH! That's why I feel an urge to IGNORE it and SUPPrESS it as much as possible, because it's INFECTIOUS –– like AVIAN FLU, POLIO or BUBONIC PLAGUE.
After great pain
A formal feeling comes
The nerves sit ceremonious –– like tombs.
The stiff hear questions
Was it He that bore ––
And yesterday –– or centuries before?
The feet mechanical go round ––
A wooden way
Of ground or air or ought.
Regardless grown ––
A quartz contentment lie a stone.
This is the hour of lead.
Remembered –– if outlived ––
As freezing persons recollect the snow.
First chill ––
Then stupor ––
Then –– the letting go.
~ Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
______ Acquainted with the Night _______
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain –– and back in rain.
I have outwalked the farthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
~ Robert Frost (1874-1963)
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