No need to memorize anymore, since we are no longer sentient creatures but rather dumb terminals on the Internet. This one rewards a reading or two. It's about syphilis, as Close_Read would confirm.
London
I wander thro' each charter'd street,
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow.
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every Man,
In every Infants cry of fear,
In every voice: in every ban,
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear
How the Chimney-sweepers cry
Every blackning Church appalls,
And the hapless Soldiers sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls
But most thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlots curse
Blasts the new-born Infants tear
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse
Lovely poem. I've never had a need to memorize so much as not being able to TURN OFF MY MEMORY. I was the rolodex for my brother's comic book collection when I was a kid.
"And the hapless Soldiers sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls"
That really gets me. Glad you liked the poem. Old Bill Blake had some awesome chops. Let's get rid of our mind-forg'd manacles, shall we? We created 'em.
Nice Time!
I object to this post as I cannot find anything sarcastic to say about it, and it makes me hopeful for humanity.
Probably every black person in America knows something about feeling excluded.
Nice.
[Pennsylvania man], OTOH, is a disgrace to my home state FFS.
I imagine he found gainful employment in the trump campaign?
Go home, Emily, you're drunk.
I recognized you as a man of class immediately!
Bats are creepy- bats are scary. Bats do not seem sanitary.
Bats in dismal caves keep cozy. Bats remind us of Lugosi!
No need to memorize anymore, since we are no longer sentient creatures but rather dumb terminals on the Internet. This one rewards a reading or two. It's about syphilis, as Close_Read would confirm.
London
I wander thro' each charter'd street,
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow.
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every Man,
In every Infants cry of fear,
In every voice: in every ban,
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear
How the Chimney-sweepers cry
Every blackning Church appalls,
And the hapless Soldiers sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls
But most thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlots curse
Blasts the new-born Infants tear
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse
Lovely poem. I've never had a need to memorize so much as not being able to TURN OFF MY MEMORY. I was the rolodex for my brother's comic book collection when I was a kid.
"And the hapless Soldiers sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls"
That really gets me. Glad you liked the poem. Old Bill Blake had some awesome chops. Let's get rid of our mind-forg'd manacles, shall we? We created 'em.
I'm not forgetting your comment on this either.
In all seriousness, I consider my memory more of a blessing than a curse. Sort of a "tool".