The stars have not dealt me the worst they could do:
My pleasures are plenty, my troubles are two.
But oh, my two troubles they reave me of rest,
The brains in my head and the heart in my breast.
Oh grant me the ease that is granted so free,
The birthright of multitudes, give it to me,
That relish their victuals and rest on their bed
With flint in their bosom and guts in their head.
A E Housman
3 comments:
beautiful. and with a rhyme scheme!
i'm flattered that you could even conceive that i am the author. it isn't moi-A.E Housman. but beautiful, it sure is.
i didnt conceive that! you wrote his name down there, didnt you? i just thought it was beautiful :)
Post a Comment