|
From: | Donald Carey |
Subject: | [Bug-dotgnu-libs] breach momentarily |
Date: | Sun, 10 Sep 2006 18:14:30 +0300 |
The honour of theBritish Navy is avenged! Perhaps
two feet bytwo and a half, she said.
That we shall be able in tenyears time to spend a
weekend at Lahore?
Safe, safe, safe, the pulse of the house
beatgladly.
It was the organ in the church playing one of
HymnsAncient and Modern.
We should admit only the unchaste to oursociety.
All day long the ten fingers of thelustre drop green upon the marble.
Grey is the landscape; dim asashes; the water
murmurs and moves.
Back again to the thing you did, the plate glass
with the violet loops?
Then Jane reminded us that we had still muchto
learn, and Castalia begged us to make haste.
Theswan pushes from the bank and floats dreaming
into mid stream. I say alls been settled;yes; laid to rest under a coverlet of rose
leaves, falling.
How lovely goodness is inthose who, stepping
lightly, go smiling through the world!
The window panes reflected apples, reflected roses;
all the leaveswere green in the glass.
It was the organ in the church playing one of
HymnsAncient and Modern. For he spends his life in company withthe finest human
beings that have ever existed. You have only to press abutton or light a little
lamp.
Four feet in the air over her head the apples hung.
This time it was a history, but I have forgottenthe writers name.
Evening comes, and the shadow sweeps the green over
the mantelpiece; theruffled surface of ocean. It wasunfortunate, by the way, that my
mother had me called Castalia.
Safe, quite safe, she said, shifting uneasily from
foot to foot.
Iaccepted my peerage, said Lord Bunkum, because my
wife wished it. Wherever I go, mysterious figures, I seeyou, turning the corner,
mothers and sons; you, you, you. Thrown upon the beach he lies, blunt,
obtuse,shedding dry blue scales.
He followed me down the corridor, and, as we turned
thecorner, trod on the lace of my petticoat.
Their wives wished that too, or perhaps it was the
British Empire.
She replied haughtily that she could notwait. The
window panes reflected apples, reflected roses; all the leaveswere green in the
glass.
Moreover, we have left our bodiesin the banqueting
hall.
Fromivory depths words rising shed their blackness,
blossom and penetrate.
Wells is the most popular living writer; then comes
Mr.
Then we had Fannys account of her visit to the Law
Courts.
The wind falls, the rain slidessilver down the
glass.
You should have thought of that three months ago, I
said severely.
But they had found it in the drawing room. Some
three months later it happened that I was sitting alone whenCastalia entered.
|
[Prev in Thread] | Current Thread | [Next in Thread] |