cleaning up so well (jones_casey) wrote,
cleaning up so well
jones_casey

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it's like flying

sunday.
ii.

looking with a tiger's downward unwavering glare, and with his desire that impels him to spring after spring, he will fall into no error.

we said a few words to each other; we had not much to say - should never have seen each other had we stayed at home, separated alike in space and in society; and then we shook hands, and he went his way again to his ranche among the hills, and that was all.

mar. o farwel honest soldier, who hath relieu'd you?

she entreats you to be sober, and not to let yourself be trapped by women.


i never did do anything that she asked
i never let what happened stay in the past
i never did quite understand what she meant
in spite of everything
in spite of everything


and how light is thy heart, and how friendless thy grace!
thou false mistress of man! thou dost sport with him lightly
in his hours of ease and enjoyment; and brightly
dost thou smile to his smile; to his joys thou inclinest,
but his sorrows, thou knowest them not, nor divinest.
while he woos, thou art wanton; thou lettest him love thee;
but thou art not his friend, for his grief cannot move thee;
and at last, when he sickens and dies, what dost thou?
all as gay are thy garments, as careless thy brow,
and thou laughest and toyest with any new comer,
not a tear more for winter, a smile less for summer!

xix.
if ever your feet, like my own,
o reader, have traversed these mountains alone,
have you felt your identity shrink and contract
at the sound of the distant and dim cataract,
in the presence of nature's immensities?
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