Within the lonesome latter years.
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drowned in tears,
Sit in a theatre to see
A play of hopes and fears,
While the orchestra breathes fitfully
The music of the spheres.
[ . . . ]
That motley drama - oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot!
- from The Conqueror Worm by Edgar Allen Poe
I chose those lines in honor of Spring Awakening, which closes tomorrow night. I'm going to miss our motley drama.
Read the entire poem here.
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