Comments on: Comet http://www.josephzitt.com/wordpress/archives/31 Joseph Zitt on writing, selling, and considering books and music. Wed, 07 Jan 2009 02:31:24 +0000 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.7 hourly 1 By: joseph.zitt http://www.josephzitt.com/wordpress/archives/31/comment-page-1#comment-226 joseph.zitt Mon, 08 Jan 2007 06:52:36 +0000 http://www.josephzitt.com/wordpress/archives/31#comment-226 Yup, I was echoing that. Byron's better, but that particular moment (of someone I saw entering a space, taking a brief nap, and leaving) clicked for me into that five stanza form, which was a pleasant challenge to complete. Yup, I was echoing that. Byron’s better, but that particular moment (of someone I saw entering a space, taking a brief nap, and leaving) clicked for me into that five stanza form, which was a pleasant challenge to complete.

]]> By: John Cowan http://www.josephzitt.com/wordpress/archives/31/comment-page-1#comment-223 John Cowan Sun, 07 Jan 2007 19:06:47 +0000 http://www.josephzitt.com/wordpress/archives/31#comment-223 She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies, And all that's best of dark and bright Meets in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which Heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impair'd the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress Or softly lightens o'er her face, Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. And on that cheek and o'er that brow So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent,— A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent. --Byron She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meets in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellow’d to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair’d the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress
Or softly lightens o’er her face,
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek and o’er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,—
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.

–Byron

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