gri_2003_m_46_b01_f05_038
- Max. dissimilarity: 1.0
- Mean dissimilarity: 0.516
- Image votes: 0.0
Transcribers
- WINNER - 65297226 - saffyre13
- 65313010 - LoriM
- 65313095 - vanderfb
- 65341651 - not-logged-in-25e38fd28e74149f9f36
- 65364551 - not-logged-in-d7c7c4888bcc149a263b
WINNER - 65297226 - saffyre13
In (18 a poet called Elijah Fenton wrote these charming lines and, as usual, I exclude the answering lines, the appeal to time, the perilous hedonism which alone can heat TIME:See, Sylvia, see this new- blownnose,
The image of thy blush,
Mark how it smiles upon the lush,
And triumphs as it grows.
Here I will stop. It continues in the gather ye Rosebuds while ye strain which it seems to me introduces the death theme as certainly as the other way. The pleasure, it is implied, is not its own justification. Subtly the ghost of guilt is ever behind the 'come on and crop me while you may' dry. Once you say that, Time and Oeats are admitted. My own rose tlaugs vibrant and warm is yet static and un-imperilled.
How I love you...love your
Lawrence.
65313010 - LoriM
An (18 th century pet called Elijah Fenton, wrote these charming lines and, as usual, I exclude the answering lines, the appeal to time, the perilous hedonisms which alone can heat 'TIME':See, Sylvia, see this new-bloom rose,
The image of thy blush,
Mark how it smiles upon the bush,
And triumphs as it grows.
Here I will stop. It continues in the gather ye rosebuds while ye may strain which it seems to me introduces the death theme as certainly as the other way. The pleasure, it is implied, is not its own justification. Subtly, the ghost of guilt is ever behind the 'come on and crop me while you may' -ing. Once you sat that, Time and Death are admitted.
My own rose though vibrant and warm is yet static an un-imperilled.
How I love you, ... love you.
Lawrence
65313095 - vanderfb
An (18 a poet called Elijah Fenton, wrote these charming lines and, as usual, I exclude the answering lines, the appeal to time, the perilous hedonism which alone can beat TIME:See, Sylvia, see this new-bloom rose,
The image of they blush,
Mark how it smiles upon the bush,
And triumphs as it grows.
Here I will stop. It continues in the Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May Strain which it seems to me introduces the death theme as certainly as the other way. The pleasure, it is implied, is not its own justification. Subtly the ghost of guilt is even behind the 'come on and trap me while you may' cry. Once you say that, Time and Death are admitted. My own rose though vibrant and warm is yet static and un-imperiled.
How I love you...Love you
Lawrence
65341651 - not-logged-in-25e38fd28e74149f9f36
An (18 a poet called Elijah Fenton wrote these lorming lines and, as usual, I exclude the answering lines, the appeal to time, the perilious hedonism which a-lone can beat TIME!See, Sylvia, see this new-blown nose,
The image of thy blush,
Mark how it smiles upon tee lush,
And triumphs as it grows.
Here I will stop. It continues in the Gather Ye Rosebuds while Ye May strain, which it seems to me introduces the death theme as certainly as the other way. The pleasure, it is implied, is not its own justification. Subtly the ghost of guilt is even beheard the "come on and upon me while you may" cry. Once you say that, Time and Oeats are admitted. My own nose daugs whrant and warm is yet static and un-imperilled.
How I love you... love you,
Lawrence.
65364551 - not-logged-in-d7c7c4888bcc149a263b