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  •  ·  NebulaNerd
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'Tis a dull sight
To see the year dying,
When winter winds
  •  ·  NebulaNerd
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THE long small room that showed willows in the west
Narrowed up to the end the fireplace filled,
Although not wide. I liked it. No one guessed
  •  ·  NebulaNerd
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A something in a summer's day,
As slow her flambeaux burn away,
Which solemnizes me.
  •  ·  NebulaNerd
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Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.
For the one ship that struts the shore
Many's the gallant, overwhelmed creature
  •  ·  NebulaNerd
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Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
  •  ·  NebulaNerd
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How beautiful the summer night
When birds roost on the mossy tree,
When moon and stars are shining bright
  •  ·  NebulaNerd
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‘Te somnia nostra reducunt.’
OVID.
  •  ·  NebulaNerd
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When first the fiery-mantled sun
His heavenly race begun to run;
Round the earth and ocean blue,
  •  ·  NebulaNerd
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Blow, blow, thou winter wind
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
  •  ·  NebulaNerd
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NOVEMBER'S days are thirty:
November's earth is dirty,
Those thirty days, from first to last;
  •  ·  NebulaNerd
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This is the land the sunset washes,
These are the banks of the Yellow Sea;
Where it rose, or whither it rushes,
  •  ·  NebulaNerd
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I measure every grief I meet
With analytic eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,

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