An ode to Nicole John: Sid Harth
http://cogitoergosum.co.cc/2010/08/30/an-ode-to-nicole-john-sid-harth/ Nicole John Remembered
Nicole John Remembered
Nicole John Remembered
Nicole John Remembered
Nicole John Remembered
Nicole John Remembered
Nicole John Remembered
Nicole John Remembered
Nicole John Remembered
That time of year thou mayest in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin’d choirs where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all the rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed wherein it must expire,
Comsum’d with that which it was nourish’d by.
This thou perceiv’st which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
William Shakespeare Sonnet LXXII
…and I am Sid Harth
By navanavonmilita, on 30/08/2010 at 8:17 am, under News, Views and
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