something this foggy day, a something which /
is neither of this fog nor of today ...
(Christina Rossetti -
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Shakespeare, 25th August
Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow,
Being so troublesome a bedfellow?
O polish'd perturbation! golden care!
That keep's the ports of slumber open wide
To many a watchful night! sleep with it now!
Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet
As he whose brow with homely bigger bound
Snores out the watch of night.