That the high sky bends above us, and life is a curse and a kiss.
Make me glad, O thou rare hand-maiden, with the sound of thy passionate sighs,
While I sing of thy body’s white beauty and live in the light of thine eyes,
For save me there’s no man living made worthy to utter thy praise,
Who art come as new moon to our night-tide, new sun toour days.
Jack Harris after his Conversion.
From an article by Mr. Justin H. McCarthy, which appeared in Belgravia (London). March, 1880.
——:o:——
The Lay of Macaroni.
As a wave that steals when the winds are stormy