Re: Registered Letter for Ms. Camille Scaysbrook
Camille Scaysbrook (verona_beach@hotpop.com)
Sun, 10 Oct 1999 12:56:55 +1000
If we're in a Blakean mood (and I must confess I never thought of imbibing
a bit of Blake with my Panadeine though it's an excellent idea) I will
proffer my favourite of his poems, if not as a long-ranging analgesic, as a
small birthday present for the lot of us:
Song
How sweet I roamed from field to field
And tasted all the summer's pride
Til I the prince of love beheld
Who in the sunny beams did glide!
He shewed me lillies for my hair,
And blushing roses for my brow
He led me through his gardens fair,
Where all his golden pleasures grow.
With sweet May dews my wings were we,
And Phoebus fired my vocal rage;
He caught me in his silken net
And shut me in his golden cage.
He loves to sit and hear me sing,
Then laughing sports and plays with me;
Then stretches out my golden wing
And mocks my loss of liberty.
--- William Blake.
Better than a cold compress full of ice any day.
Camille
verona_beach@hotpop.com
> --- citycabn <citycabn@gateway.net> wrote:
> > P.S. Another of our clients, rather a *real*
> > eccentric, once told us that
> > if one places a small Blake lyric near the pain, it
> > will soothe it
> > immensely. Anyway, might be worth a try.
>
> Ah sunflower
> weary of time
> who countest the steps from the sun
> seeking after
> the sweet golden clime
> where the travelers journey is done
> and the youth
> pined away with desire
> and the pale virgin
> shrouded in snow arise
> from her grave
> and aspires
> where my Sunflower wishes to go
>
> - William Blake
>
> (A *great*, yet gentle poem. And only in America - I
> did not memorize this for school, I learned it off a
> rock album by the Fugs when I was seventeen (Ed
> Sanders, Tuli Kupferberg, Ken Weaver - downtown
> poets-Hippys-musicians, NYC mid '60's)
>
> =====
>
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