I listen, but no faculty of mineAvails those modulations to detect,Which, heard in foreign lands, the Swiss affectWith tenderest passion; leaving him to pine(So fame reports) and die, his sweet-breathed kineRemembering, and green Alpine pastures deckedWith vernal flowers. Yet may we not rejectThe tale as fabulous. Here while I recline,Mindful how others by this simple StrainAre … [Read more...] about Memorials Of A Tour On The Continent, 1820 – XXI. – On Hearing The “Ranz Des Vaches” On The Top Of The Pass Of St. Gothard, By: William Wordsworth
Poems
Memorials Of A Tour On The Continent, 1820 – XX. – The Town Of Schwytz, By: William Wordsworth
By antique Fancy trimmed, though lowly, bredTo dignity in thee, O Schwytz! are seenThe genuine features of the golden mean;Equality by Prudence governed,Or jealous Nature ruling in her stead;And, therefore, art thou blest with peace, sereneAs that of the sweet fields and meadows greenIn unambitious compass round thee spread.Majestic Berne, high on her guardian steep,Holding a … [Read more...] about Memorials Of A Tour On The Continent, 1820 – XX. – The Town Of Schwytz, By: William Wordsworth
Anthem Of A Kid Unwanted, By: Andrew Cyr
It was a Thursday morning.And unlike Wednesday,I knew where I was goingshouldn’t be somewhereI wanted to go, but I did.Go. I wanted to leave this houseand this bustling town of drunksand stochastic manipulation. Besides, I wasn’t what her newhusband wanted, and he saidshe needed to pick.I got the short end of the stick. I didn’t know the route, and anyway,anywhere would … [Read more...] about Anthem Of A Kid Unwanted, By: Andrew Cyr
A Holy Hint, By: Geoffrey Heptonstall
To say how is my lovewill you fly to heron silken wings,bird of silver songwith your sweet tongue. One or two or three thingsare never easy to find:counting the stars in the frost,or touching the moon,or hearing the mind of my love. (Freely adapted from the traditional Welsh song, Aderyn du) … [Read more...] about A Holy Hint, By: Geoffrey Heptonstall
The Button Is Pressed, By: Ramses Martin
heat is starting, got meout hereburningfurnishingout of a terrorpraise to my one Terra.as I move past these degreesI see the charm -that of a feather. Sonic be whereI’m currently at -outside hunger homiewith a french fry crave “Cheesy Bacon Stack”to cure a bout of my depression fed by something lonely. clocking in time in my brainbefore I’m driven insane;just know … [Read more...] about The Button Is Pressed, By: Ramses Martin