update from sparkleup

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Madison Scott-Clary 2021-02-07 14:10:09 -08:00
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@ -80,9 +80,106 @@ To plant their roots in my warm, earthen roof,
Just they and I, with no need of reproof,
And thank the thorns for making a hale fence,
The compost for being my winter blanket.</div>
<hr />
<h2 id="analysis">Analysis</h2>
<h3 id="related">Related</h3>
<p>&ldquo;Winter&rdquo; by Edward Esch</p>
<div class="verse">I.
The snow is falling,
sleeping,
whispering,
dreaming of water.
II.
Gold, silver, iron, stone;
pure and gentle, silently melting,
the sun sings softly through the quiet ice.
III.
A single snowflake awakens,
shimmers,
glows,
watches the world with weary eyes,
darkens,
settles,
and disappears.</div>
<p>From &ldquo;Mid-Winter Songs&rdquo; by Morten Lauridsen, text by Robert Graves</p>
<div class="verse"><em>Lament for Pasiphaë</em>
Dying sun, shine warm a little longer!
My eye, dazzled with tears, shall dazzle yours
Conjuring you to shine and not to move
You, sun, and I all afternoon have laboured
Beneath a dewless and oppressive cloud&ndash;
A fleece now gilded with our commen grief
That this must be a night without a moon
Dying sun, shine warm a little longer!
Faithless she was not: she was very woman
Smiling with dire impartiality
Sovereign, with heart unmatched, adored of men
Until Spring&rsquo;s cuckoo with bedraggled plumes
Tempted her pity and her truth betrayed
Then she who shone for all resigned her being
And this must be a night without a moon
Dying sun, shine warm a little longer!
<em>Like Snow</em>
She, then, like snow in a dark night
Fell secretly. And the world waked
With dazzling of the drowsy eye
So that some muttered &lsquo;Too much light,&rsquo;
And drew the curtains close
Like snow, warmer than fingers feared
And to soil friendly;
Holding the histories of the night
In yet unmelted tracks
<em>She Tells Her Love While Half Asleep</em>
She tells her love while half asleep
In the dark hours
With half-words whispered low:
As Earth stirs in her winter sleep
And puts out grass and flowers
Despite the snow
Despite the falling snow
<em>Mid-Winter Waking</em>
Stirring suddenly from long hibernation
I knew myself once more a poet
Guarded by timeless prinicipalities
Against the worm of death, this hillside haunting;
And presently dared open both my eyes
O gracious, lofty, shone against from under
Back-of-the-mind-far clouds like towers;
And you, sudden warm airs that blow
Before the expected season of new blossom
While sheep still gnaw at roots and lambless go&ndash;
Be witness that on waking, this mid-winter
I foudn her hand in mine laid closely
Who hsall watch out the Spring with me
We stared in silence all around us
But found no winter anywhere to see
<em>Intercession in Late October</em>
How hard the year dies: no frost yet
On drifts of yellow sand Midas reclines
Fearless of moaning reed or sullen wave
Firm and fragrant still the brambleberries
On ivy-bloom butterflies wag
Spare him a little longer, Crone
For his clean hands and love-submissive heart</div>
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<p>Page generated on 2021-01-01</p>
<p>Page generated on 2021-02-07</p>
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