| Poem for Friday |
[Jan. 9th, 2004|11:17 am] |
Lullaby
By W. H. Auden
Lay Your Sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm:
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.
Soul and body have no bounds:
To lovers as they lie upon
Her tolerant enchanted slope
In their ordinary swoon,
Grave the vision Venus sends
Of supernatural sympathy,
Universal love and hope;
While an abstract insight wakes
Among the glaciers and the rocks
The hermit's carnal ecstacy,
Certainty, fidelity
On the stroke of midnight pass
Like vibrations of a bell
And fashionable madmen raise
Their pedantic boring cry:
Every farthing of the cost.
All the dreaded cards foretell.
Shall be paid, but from this night
Not a whisper, not a thought.
Not a kiss nor look be lost.
Beauty, midnight, vision dies:
Let the winds of dawn that blow
Softly round your dreaming head
Such a day of welcome show
Eye and knocking heart may bless,
Find our mortal world enough;
Noons of dryness find you fed
By the involuntary powers,
Nights of insult let you pass
Watched by every human love.
--------
Happy Birthday ![[info]](http://www.deadjournal.com:8080/userinfo.gif) sheldrake! Incidentally, I never remember to check my portal page, so usually my recollection to post happy birthday to someone is contingent on someone else on my Flist having beaten me to it. If I miss yours, please don't take it personally as it is just a sign of my overall disorganization in life!
No Friday Five or fannish5 posted yet. But speaking of organization, perkypaduan is coming over for More Russell Squeeage so must get moving. More later! |
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