Friday 23 April 2021

Glory to St. George and all Hail the Bard!


 

 
Composed Upon Westminster Bridge
 
 Earth has not any thing to show more fair: 
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by 
 A sight so touching in its majesty: 
This City now doth, like a garment, wear 
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, 
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie 
Open unto the fields, and to the sky; 
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. 
Never did sun more beautifully steep 
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; 
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! 
The river glideth at his own sweet will: 
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; 
And all that mighty heart is lying still!
 
 

 

Whilst we are celebrating St. George, let us not forget the Providence of the Bard being born on this day of April 23rd. 

 


Sonnet 116 

Let me not to the marriage of true minds 
 Admit impediments. Love is not love 
Which alters when it alteration finds, 
Or bends with the remover to remove: 
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark 
That looks on tempests and is never shaken; 
It is the star to every wandering bark, 
 Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken 
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 
Within his bending sickle’s compass come: 
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 
But bears it out even to the edge of doom. 
If this be error and upon me proved, 
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

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