The Unuttered Poetry of Rose
Is there a consummation lit by awe reserved for me? Oh, when will I go up – up flames like steps of stone – I who never told my banal… Read more The Unuttered Poetry of Rose →
Poetry Survey Series Post Seven: Double Sonnet by George Herbert
My God, where is that ancient heat towards thee, Wherewith whole shoals of martyrs once did burn, Besides their other flames? Doth poetry Wear Venus’ livery? only serve her turn? Why are not sonnets made of thee? and lays Upon thine altar burnt? Cannot thy love Heighten a spirit to sound out thy praise As well as any she? Cannot thy Dove Outstrip their Cupid easily in flight? Or, since thy ways are deep, and still the same, Will not a verse run smooth that bears thy name! Why doth… Read more Poetry Survey Series Post Seven: Double Sonnet by George Herbert →
Lent
I suffer death his hard blue sting his theft of breath his hammering Yet though worlds fade before my eyes I’m not thus made the thing that dies I bore the shame I wore the tree I was the sin Remember me
Slow Literature 