The Disciple - Oscar Wilde

When Narcissus died the pool of his pleasure changed from a cup of sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, and the Oreads came weeping through the woodland that they might sing to the pool and give it comfort.

And when they saw that the pool had changed from a cup of sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, they loosened the green tresses of their hair and cried to the pool and said, `We do not wonder that you should mourn in this manner for Narcissus, so beautiful was he.'

`But was Narcissus beautiful?' said the pool.

`Who should know that better than you?' answered the Oreads. `Us did he ever pass by, but you he sought for, and would lie on your banks and look down at you, and in the mirror of your waters he would mirror his own beauty.'

And the pool answered, `But I loved Narcissus because, as he lay on my banks and looked down at me, in the mirror of his eyes I saw ever my own beauty mirrored.'

autogoogle

this was completely unexpected: www.hermanchan.net.

HP6: HBP

i spoiled myself. which only makes me want to read it all the more.

EDIT: July 20
after my halfdays of work and school, i schlep on over to a Chapters to read. i am joined by several others who also find the $24 (at walmart) or $41 (published price) too steep.

Progress 20/7: pg. 127

Progress 22/7: pg. 343

Progress 25/7: pg. 407

Progress 27/7: pg. 500

Progress 28/7: finished

total estimated reading time: 5.3 hrs

into the sunset

there is something oddly effeminate about sending off heroes into battle. sadly, i did not have a kerchief to wave, nor a dress to flutter in the wind as i stood at the end of the pier.

"A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning" - John Donne

you know i only post up the good stuff. this one is so funny...

As virtuous men passe mildly away,
And whisper to their soules, to goe,
Whilst some of their sad friends doe say.
The breath goes now, and some say, no:

So let us melt, and make no noise,
No teare-floods, nor sigh-tempests move,
T'were prophanation of our joyes
To tell the layetie our love.

Moving of th'earth brings harmes and feares,
Men reckon what it did and meant,
But trepidation of the spheares,
Though greater farre, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers love
(Whose soule is sense) cannot admit
Absense, because it doth remove
Those things which elemented it.

But we by a love, so much refin'd.
That our selves know not what it is,
Inter-assured of the mind,
Care lesse, eyes, lips, and hands to misse.

Our two soules therefore, which are one,
Though I must goe, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to ayery thinnesse beate.

If they be two, they are two so
As stiffe twin compasses are two,
Thy soule the fixt foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if the'other doe.

And though it in the center sit,
Yet when the other far doth rome,
It leanes, and hearkens after it,
And growes erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to mee, who must
Like th'other foot, obliquely runne;
Thy firmnes drawes my circle just,
And makes me end, where I begunne.