Bookish Matters

The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.

—Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

Saturday, August 22, 2009

I Shall Keep Singing

Emily Dickinson

I shall keep singing!
Birds will pass me
On their way to Yellower Climes--
Each--with a Robin's expectation--
I--with my Redbreast--
And my Rhymes--

Late--when I take my place in summer--
But--I shall bring a fuller tuner--
Vespers--are sweeter than Matins--Signor--
Morning--only the seed of Noon--

1 comment:

  1. One day, I will catch a strapping young local stealing olives off of the expansive property at my Italian villa, and I will morn the loss of my youth (though I couldn't care less about the olives. Nasty foods, they are. Repulsive.). While reclining on my patio in the heat of an autumn evening, I will recite this poem dramatically to Father Giuseppi, a stout man with a questionable past. "It's all gone to rosehips, Father; the bloom of my youth is gone! But I shall bring a fuller tune! Vespers are sweeter than Matins, signor, morning only the seed of noon!" Father Giuseppi, rather tipsy from drinking too much wine, will tell me to get over myself.

    I am excited about your blog.