Verse Thursday...

One of my very favorites, certainly any time I pick up my collection of Tennyson's works this is one I always go looking for - read it softly aloud, if you will.


Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The fire-fly wakens: waken thou with me.

Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.

Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.

Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.

Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake:
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.

-

A peek in my 'window' - catching the wave of the meme...

I had to ponder whether to put up one of these - a strange sense of vulnerability, I suppose - and it was harder than I expected to figure out which ones to choose for myself.

You are most welcome to give it a whirl, if you like:

http://kevan.org/johari?name=primsong