Oh truly we are a fortunate few
Who turn on your axis, revolve around you
All spinning outwards from your sun
Passing your reflection on
Gentle Sir Philip Sidney, thou knew'st what belong'd to a scholler; thou knew'st what pains, what toil, what travail conduct to perfection.
1 comment:
This makes me think of the Death Cab lyric,
"Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark."
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