FATHER LAWRENCE
Young son, it argues a distemper'd head so soon to
bid good marrow to thy bed: or if not so, then
here I hit it right, our Romeo hath not seen his bed
tonight.
ROMEO
The last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.
Ahhh, what sweeter rest than spending the night finding complete sufficient statistics and grading 135 homeworks?
What tenuous threads of sanity remain as rosy fingered dawn pulls itself over the horizon? We shall see...
Good morrow to all.
-SP
1 comment:
The houses are haunted
By white night-gowns.
None are green,
Or purple with green rings,
Or green with yellow rings,
Or yellow with blue rings.
None of them are strange,
With socks of lace
And beaded ceintures.
People are not going
To dream of baboons and periwinkles.
Only, hear and there, an old sailor,
Drunk and asleep in his boots,
Catches tigers
In red weather.
-Wallace Stevens
Post a Comment