More Keats:
My spirit is too weak
Mortality weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep
and each imagined pinnacle and steep
of godlike hardship tells me I must die
like a sick eagle looking at the sky
Dim-conceived glories of the brain...
More Keats:
My spirit is too weak
Mortality weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep
and each imagined pinnacle and steep
of godlike hardship tells me I must die
like a sick eagle looking at the sky
“Yet ‘tis a gentle luxury to weep that I have not the cloudy winds to keep fresh for the opening of the morning’s eye”
I’m going to try to get this thing styled up a little and then start adding some docs on projects that I’ve been working on…
THIS IS A SECOND POST