"A peculiar anthologic maze, an amusing literary chaos, a farrago of quotations, a mere olla podrida of quaintness, a pot pourri of pleasant delites, a florilegium of elegant extracts, a tangled fardel of old-world flowers of thought, a faggot of odd fancies, quips, facetiae, loosely tied" (Holbrook Jackson, Anatomy of Bibliomania) by a "laudator temporis acti," a "praiser of time past" (Horace, Ars Poetica 173).
Pages
▼
Monday, August 13, 2007
Waiting
Thomas Hardy, Waiting Both:
A star looks down at me And says: "Here I and you Stand, each in our degree: What do you mean to do,— Mean to do?"
I say: "For all I know, Wait, and let Time go by, Till my change come."—"Just so," The star says: "So mean I:— So mean I."