O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
-
- Mean As Custard (
calico_pye) wrote,
Mean As Custard
calico_pye
William Blake- The Sick Rose
O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
-
John Betjeman - Meditation on the A30
John Betjeman - August 1906-May 1984 A man on his own in a car Is revenging himself on his wife; He open the throttle and bubbles with dottle…
-
The World In A Grain Of Sand...
" To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an…
-
World Poetry Day 2016: Gerald Manly Hopkins - Spring
Nothing is so beautiful as spring - When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens,…
- Post a new comment
- 3 comments
- Post a new comment
- 3 comments
