The Moving Finger writes; and having writ,
Moves on ...
So spoke Fitzgerald's Persian bard,
And the people of Victoria heard him and sighed,
And thought unto themselves “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity,”
And turned again to contemplate, now sad, their railway timetables.
Alan Jacobs, First Things, November 2007
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Saturday, August 06, 2011
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Joy and Woe are Woven Fine
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine;
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And, when this we rightly know,
Safely through the world we go.
William Blake, Auguries of Innocence (circa 1793)
A clothing for the soul divine;
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And, when this we rightly know,
Safely through the world we go.
William Blake, Auguries of Innocence (circa 1793)