Since then she had been walking with a ghost: the terrible ghost of her illusion. Only she had somehow vivified, colored, substantiated it, by the force of her own great need – as one might breathe a semblance of life into a dear drowned body that she cannot give up for dead. All this came to her with aching distinctness now. She had accused herself of not daring to face the truth but she knew now this was not the case. It was not the truth she feared it was yet another deception. If she could foresee a chance of him saying: ‘Yes, I do not care for you, not at all; it was a mere fancy’, she would put it to the touch, stood up the blow; but she knew he would never say it. He would go on eluding and doubling watching her occasionally, as she watched him in her mind’s eye all the time; and at that game she had the certainty he was to beat her in the end.
The Custom of the Country
Η ΓΗ ΓΥΡΝΑ!
O send thy word of command to rebuke
the raging winds, and the roaring seas;
that we, being delivered from such distress
may live to serve thee.
A knight is sworn to valor
His heart knows only virtue
His blade defends the helpless
His might upholds the weak
His word speaks only truth
His wrath undoes the wicked
The Old Code Oath
In wild solitude forgotten I chance to thrive.
Against the grain determined I strive;
Immersed in Creation’s forceful power
Feral or serene eyeing me all the while benign!
Wrong or right to thee majestic Nature alone I align –
– “We shall be friends forever?”
– “Even longer…”
Winnie the Pooh
You & I back to back
Fancy me in cloudland!
Stranded from you
In dim dungeon I succumb.
For you I stand the rain –
Together stand the strain!
With you I stand the grind
Accept one and all challenge to fight.
“I had hoped for a horse but there is nothing wrong
with a good strong mule.”
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music: – Do I wake or sleep?
What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a Shepherd
I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man
I would do my part,
Yet what I can I give Him,
Give my heart.
Do not scar your skin with the name of the one you love the dearest
or you lose them for good, miss them forever.
“Nicely-nicely” barely you stand; your mind unstrung
icy as hell your hands ache for feeling so empty…
Not believe that I love you?
Nothing but you can lay hold of my mind
and that can lay hold of nothing but you.
The scene of this world seems suddenly and sadly chang’d.
Unlovely objects surround me excepting thee;
my soul can fix upon nobody but thee!
Thee it contemplates, admires
adores, nay depends on, trusts on you alone.
Should you and hope forsake it
despair and endless misery attend it.
“Should you summon the courage to sit through
the bleakest day in the end the weather will turn”
Between the stirrup and the ground
Mercy I asked mercy I found.