| via sartorias, a cool meme . . . |
[Jun. 17th, 2007|08:15 am] |
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If there are one or more people on your friends list who make your world a better place just because they exist, and whom you would not have met (in real life or not) without the internet, then post this same sentence in your journal. |
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| How she disliked the cold! |
[Jun. 17th, 2007|10:37 am] |
I cannot but remember
When the year grows old—
October—November—
How she disliked the cold!
She used to watch the swallows
Go down across the sky,
And turn from the window
With a little sharp sigh.
And often when the brown leaves
Were brittle on the ground,
And the wind in the chimney
Made a melancholy sound.
She had a look about her
That I wish I could forget—
The look of a scared thing
Sitting in a net!
Oh, beautiful at nightfall
The soft spitting snow!
And beautiful the bare boughs
Rubbing to and fro!
But the roaring of the fire,
And the warmth of fur,
And the boiling of the kettle
Were beautiful to her!
I cannot but remember
When the year grows old—
October—November—
How she disliked the cold!
"When The Year Grows Old", Edna Saint Vincent Millay
w/apologies to ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) polymexina for stealing the whole posting good poetry thing . . . |
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