Thursday, February 20, 2014

Friday, February 14, 2014

The Frost performs its secret ministry

Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
Of mossy apple tree, while the nigh thatch
Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall
Heard only in the trances of the blast,
Or if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
Quietly shining to the quiet Moon.

from "Frost at Midnight"
Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Sunday, February 9, 2014


It was a winter such as when birds die
In the deep forests; and the fishes lie
Stiffened in the translucent ice, which makes
Even the mud and slime of the warm lakes
A wrinkled clod as hard as brick; and when,
Among their children, comfortable men
Gather about great fires and yet feel cold:
Alas, then, for the homeless beggar old!

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Friday, February 7, 2014