View Single Post
  #3  
Old 12-07-2016, 11:25 AM
Inner Stickler Inner Stickler is offline
Guest
 
Join Date: Jul 2005
Location: Minnesota
Posts: 14,294
Lord, I do fear
Thou’st made the world too beautiful this year;
My soul is all but out of me,—let fall
No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.


God's World by Edna St. Vincent Millay, last half of the second stanza



Well: while was fashioning
This creature of cleaving wing,
The Immanent Will that stirs and urges everything

Prepared a sinister mate
For her — so gaily great —
A Shape of Ice, for the time far and dissociate.

And as the smart ship grew
In stature, grace, and hue,
In shadowy silent distance grew the Iceberg too.


The Convergence of the Twain by Thomas Hardy, stanzas 6-8