The Goldmine.
  • Spy vs Spy
    • At Fox River
    • Patty and the Tet Offensive
    • Pale and Interesting >
      • More pale and interesting
      • Older, still pale, possibly only interesting to a couple of people
    • The Heckler and Koch Affair
    • Spy vs Spy
  • Peeling the Onion
  • Old unhappy far-off things
    • Wipers and the Ypres League
    • Fanny and Cobber.
    • In Memoriam
  • Slightly Saltirical
    • A Dexter Hand
    • The Boar-Worshippers
  • Taken by the Hand
    • Geranium Days
    • The Lockhart Papers
    • A Martial Aspect
    • O Perfect Love >
      • Sonnets Unplugged
      • Stout Cortez
    • Tea and an Ascot
  • Childe Harold
    • Monikers >
      • The Sandman and Sleipnir
    • Bos Indicus
    • Three things in a field >
      • Dance With A Bull
  • Eureka (Stockade)
    • Two for Joy
    • At the Bottom of the Garden >
      • Coins of the Realm
  • Superstitious Nonsense
    • Leaves of Tea
  • The Best of Times
    • The Space Race >
      • C.P.Snow
  • Sorry luv, I missed that.
  • Valley Girls
    • Britten, B et al >
      • Gammon and Spinach
      • The Blue Flowers >
        • The Beautiful People
        • The girls from 9DY Rangi Ruru >
          • The Fires of Hell and other Works of Art
        • The Cat's Paw and other Feline Fables
        • Flowers in Bloom
      • The Moon and Daisies
      • Snowmaiden Revelry
  • Sitting on Custard
  • The Long White Grass
    • Somewhere...
  • I have pictures
  • The Queen's Cake
  • A Portrait by Hoppner
  • The Iron Fist.
    • Slow twitching gams.
  • Whips and Whatnot
  • Showering with Friends

Left hanging.

4/13/2011

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I found a piece of paper on the floor. As we have high standards re household orderliness I picked it up. Written on it, in blue ink and a small neat hand are the following words:
                                                               Mute is thy wild harp now O Bard Sublime
                                                               Who, amid Scotia's mountain solitude
                                                               Nature taught to build the lofty rhyme
                                                               And even beneath the daily pressure,rude
                                                               of the labouring poverty, thy generous 
                                                               blood fired with the love of freedom-- 
                                                               not subdued.
                                                               Wert thou by the low fortune But a time    
                                                               like this, when the abject chime
                                                               of
 And that was it. Another thing for me to chase up.
                                                            
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