Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if Hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
Sonnet -- To Science
Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.
Why preyest thou thus upon the poet's heart,
Vulture, whose wings are dull realities?
How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise?
Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering
To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies,
Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing?
Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car?
And driven the Hamadryad from the wood
To seek a shelter in some happier star?
Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood,
The Elfin from the green grass, and from me
The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?
The Haunted Palace
In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace-
Radiant palace-reared its head.
In the monarch Thought's dominion-
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow,
(This-all this-was in the olden
Time long ago,)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A winged odor went away.
Wanderers in that happy valley,
Through two luminous windows, saw
Spirits moving musically,
To a lute's well-tuned law,
Round about a throne where, sitting
In state his glory well-befitting,
The ruler of the realm was seen.
And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.
But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch's high estate.
(Ah, let us mourn!-for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him desolate!)
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
And travellers, now, within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms, that move fantastically
To a discordant melody,
While, like a ghastly rapid river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever
And laugh-but smile no more.
Then he said: "I don't see why it matters what is written. Not when it's about people. It can always be crossed out."
A breeze swept across the airfield. Overhead, the assembled hosts rippled, like a mirage.
There was the kind of silence there might have been on the day before Creation.
Adam stood smiling at the two of them, a small figure perfectly poised exactly between Heaven and Hell.
Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's arm. "You know what happened?" he hissed excitedly. "He was left alone! He grew up human! He's not Evil Incarnate or Good Incarnate, he's just ... a human incarnate--"
Something told him that something was coming to an end. Not the world, exactly. Just the summer. There would be other summers, but there would never be one like this. Ever again.
If you want to imagine the future, imagine a boy and his dog and his friends. And a summer that never ends.
And if you want to imagine the future, imagine a boot ... no, imagine a sneaker, laces trailing, kicking a pebble; imagine a stick, to poke at interesting things, and throw for a dog that may or may not decide to retrieve it; imagine a tuneless whistle, pounding some luckless popular song into insensibility; imagine a figure, half angle, half devil, all human ...
Slouching hopefully towards Tadfield ...
“A hand is to be kissed with reverence,
The forehead – solemnly, with friendship,
The cheeks – with tender admiration,
And the lips be kissed with ardor,
While the eyes one kisses with languor,
The neck – with passionate desire,
And with a maddening delirium
All the rest is to be kissed.”
-- Franz Grillparzer
Auf die Hande kust die Achtung, 手なら尊敬。
Freundschaft auf die offne Stirn, 額なら友情。
Auf die Wange Wohlgefallen, 頬なら厚意。
Sel'ge Liebe auf den Mund; 唇なら愛情。
Aufs geschlosne Aug' die Sehnsucht, 瞼なら憧れ。
In die hohle Hand Verlangen, 掌なら懇願。
Arm und Nacken die Begierde, 腕と首なら欲望。
Ubrall sonst die Raserei. それ以外は、狂気の沙汰。
Franz Grillparzer "Kus"(1819) フランツ・グリルパルツァー「接吻」(1819)
So basically, I want to see Arthur, cannon or Au, being the inteligent, merciful and kind person he ought to be. Make him as prideful as you please, it was after all hubris that ended his reign, but he was really loyal to people and it gets to me, seeing him cheating here, mistrusting Merlin there, and all the rest. We see Arthur being trusting all the time even on the show! And he stands up for his people to Uther all the time too! And we already know he'll break the rules for sorcerers, he did it for Mordred and was prepared to do it for Gwen when he thought she'd cured her father.
I'm not broken