From Ode to Memory
Thou who stealest fire,
From the fountains of the past,
To glorify the present, oh, haste,
Visit my low desire!
Strengthen me, enlighten me!
I faint in this obscurity,
Thou dewy dawn of memory.
From Ode to Memory
Thou who stealest fire,
From the fountains of the past,
To glorify the present, oh, haste,
Visit my low desire!
Strengthen me, enlighten me!
I faint in this obscurity,
Thou dewy dawn of memory.
A poem is a little machine for remembering itself
The way to be safe is never to be secure.
We are entering a realm of cultural darkness, in which rational argument and respect for the opponent are disappearing...there is…