To: Zakeet
APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
3 posted on
06/01/2016 7:35:56 PM PDT by
ClearCase_guy
(Nation States seem to be ending. The follow-on should not be Globalism, but Localism.)
To: ClearCase_guy
1: Whan that aprill with his shoures soote
2: The droghte of march hath perced to the roote,
3: And bathed every veyne in swich licour
4: Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
5: Whan zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
6: Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
7: Tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
8: Hath in the ram his halve cours yronne,
9: And smale foweles maken melodye,
10: That slepen al the nyght with open ye
11: (so priketh hem nature in hir corages);
12: Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages..."
40 posted on
06/01/2016 10:37:09 PM PDT by
TXnMA
(Recorded for posterity...)
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