"I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom. I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients." Gustave Courbet

12 February 2017

Shorten.

Chagall, Bouquet by the Window, 1960


Now winter nights enlarge 
The number of their hours; 
And clouds their storms discharge 
Upon the airy towers. 
Let now the chimneys blaze 
And cups o’erflow with wine, 
Let well-turned words amaze 
With harmony divine. 
Now yellow waxen lights 
Shall wait on honey love 
While youthful revels, masques, and courtly sights 
Sleep’s leaden spells remove. 

This time doth well dispense 
With lovers’ long discourse; 
Much speech hath some defense, 
Though beauty no remorse. 
All do not all things well; 
Some measures comely tread, 
Some knotted riddles tell, 
Some poems smoothly read. 
The summer hath his joys, 
And winter his delights; 
Though love and all his pleasures are but toys, 
They shorten tedious nights.

Thomas Campion

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