By Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn?
Where may the grave of that good man be?—
By the side of a spring, on the breast of Helvellyn,
Under the twigs of a young birch tree!
The oak that in summer was sweet to hear,
And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year,
And whistled and roared in the winter alone,
Is gone,—and the birch in its stead is grown.—
The Knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;—
His soul is with the saints, I trust.
--------
I spent Tuesday morning putting away laundry and Renfaire outfits and shifting the closet a bit for the winter; I need to do a proper clothes purge. Then we had lunch, I did some reading, and we went out to enjoy the weather before the rain arrived -- we managed to see a few bunnies, at least.
My DS9 group only had three people around for the episode, so we went back to the very mediocre "Meridian"; the Dax storyline is so irrelevant we skipped it to watch "Defiant" while we were all around, but I love the Kira/Odo storyline so much I can even overlook Quark's absolute asshattery.
Then we watched the Tampa Bay-Cleveland game, which I'm glad the Rays won (and Baker saved). Now we're catching up on Futurama. Some photos from the King's Tournament at King Richard's Faire, in which a woman knight won the tests of skill but there was cheating by the green knight in the joust:
No comments:
Post a Comment