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winter-summers
winter-summers
They ruined a beautiful thing
Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf, So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day Nothing gold can stay.
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Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 7:39 AM UTC
Nothing Gold Can Stay
so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens
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Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 12:18 PM UTC
The Red Wheelbarrow
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips’ red; If snow be white, why then her ******* are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks, And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know, That music hath a far more pleasing sound. I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress when she walks treads on the ground. And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.
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Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 1:51 PM UTC
Sonnet 130: My Mistress’ Eyes Are Nothing Like The Sun