I'll put on a spot of tea.
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—
No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.
I don’t remember posting this? It’s old I’m cleaning my art folders. 8U
arthur wrote a book too
OH OH
Of all my literature, I’m proudest of this marvelous work of non-fiction.
(Source: sakura-yukishiro, via zimoi-obiteli)
/sits in corner
/reads
/just reads
/more productive then you lot
What ever could be the problem, Kirkland?
…I suppose I needn’t tell you of the wonderful time I am having.
/stifles a snicker, passing it off as a cough;
Ah, well. It seems that Bonnefoy is your problem, no?
What else is new.Tell me, is that a good read you are so tightly clenching in your grasp?
Bonnefoy seems to be entertaining himself, thank God. Though the feminine one seems to be in the act of hiring exotic dancers.
/scowls slightly, manages to hide with book;
I would say so, as I’ve nothing better to do.
