Friday, January 29, 2016

« When I watch the living meet,
      And the moving pageant file
Warm and breathing through the street
      Where I lodge a little while,

If the heats of hate and lust
      In the house of flesh are strong,
Let me mind the house of dust
      Where my sojourn shall be long.

In the nation that is not
      Nothing stands that stood before;
There revenges are forgot,
      And the hater hates no more;

Lovers lying two and two
      Ask not whom they sleep beside,
And the bridegroom all night through
      Never turns him to the bride. »

Pageant : peut-être, ici, parade



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