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Sonnet XLIII [16 Apr 2008|01:29am]
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,

I have forgotten, and what arms have lain

Under my head till morning; but the rain

Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh

Upon the glass and listen for reply,

And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain

For unremembered lads that not again

Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.

Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,

Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,

Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:

I cannot say what loves have come and gone,

I only know that summer sang in me

A little while, that in me sings no more.

[02 Oct 2007|11:34pm]
"Life is a comedy to those who think, and a tragedy to those who feel."

- Walpole

homer pimpson [30 Jan 2005|09:59pm]

so say hello.
30 CMT

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