gri_2003_m_46_b01_f11_008
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Transcribers
- 65307313 - not-logged-in-b5357d730a7d0ec48027
- WINNER - 65319589 - darryluk
- 65335711 - Malina-B
- 65351704 - LoriM
- 65353287 - Reggers44
65307313 - not-logged-in-b5357d730a7d0ec48027
11 Mansel Road,Winbledon.
5th December 1948
Dearest Sylvia,
Thank you darling for a charming letter which turned my head with pleasure. I am happy that you liked our poems and chapter. Tho think about you is to think poetically. Here are a pair of poems for you, dearest Sylvia. The second one takes a conceit of Donne's (Busie olde foole, Unrulie Sunner) and turns it round.
Nocturne
Pale blue stars ambush my sight:
Victorious ephemera
Of shooting stars traverse
The sky between our houses
On this cold winter night.
Oh for our hands to witness
The testament of love
With you on such a night
That I may be at last
Love's willing Sisyphus.
Aubade
Apollo makes the sleepy lovers
Each tousled nude complains
At the intruding light, and of the need
To work the orchard or the fields
And leave from love for daylight hours.
WINNER - 65319589 - darryluk
11 Mansel Road,Wimbledon
5th December 1948
Dearest Sylvia,
Thank you darling for a charming letter which turned my head with pleasure. I am happy that you liked our poems and chapter. To think of you is to think poetically. Here are a pair of poems for you dearest Sylvia. The second one takes a conceit of Donne's (Busie olde foole, Unrulie Sunne) and turns it round.
Nocturne
Pale blue stars ambush my sight:
Victorious ephemera
Of shooting stars traverse
The sky between our houses
On this cold winter night.
Oh for our hands to witness
The testament of love
With you on such a night
That I may be at last
Love's willing Sisyphus.
Aubade
Apollo wakes the sleepy lovers,
Each tousled nude complains
At the intruding light, and of the need
To work the orchard or the fields
And leave from love for daylit hours.
65335711 - Malina-B
11 Mansel Road,Wimbledon.
5th December 1948
Dearest Sylvia,
Thank you darling for a charming letter which turned my head with pleasure. I am happy that you liked our poems and chapter. To think of you is to think poetically. Here are a pair of poems for you dearest Sylvia. The second one takes a conceit of Donne's (Busie olde foole, Unrulie Sunne) and turns it round.
Nocturne
Pale blue stars ambush my sight:
Victorious ephemera
Of shooting stars traverse
The sky between our houses
On this cold winter night.
Oh for our hands witness
The testament of love
With you on such a night
That I may be at last
Love's willing sisyphus.
Aubade
Apollo wakes the sleepy lovers,
Each tousled nude complains
At the intruding light, and of the need to work the orchard or the fields
And leave from love for daylit hours.
65351704 - LoriM
11 Mansel Road,Wimbledon.
5th December 1948
Dearest Sylvia,
Thank you darling for a charming let-
ter which turned my head with pleasure.
I am happy that you liked our poems and
chapter. To think of you is to think
poetically. Here are a pair of poems
for you dearest Sylvia. The second one
takes a conceit of Donne's (Busie olde
foole, Unrulie Sunne) and turns it round.
Nocturne
Pale blue stars ambush my sight:
Victorious ephemera
Of shooting stars traverse
The sky between our houses
On this cold winter night.
Oh for our hands to witness
The testament of love
With you on such a night
That I may be at last
Love's willing Sisyphus.
Aubade
Apollo wakes the sleepy lovers,
Each tousled nude complains
At the intruding light, and of the need
To work the orchard or the fields
And leave from love for daylit hours.
65353287 - Reggers44
11, Mansel RoadWimbledon
5th December 1948
Dearest Sylvia
Thank you darling for a charming let-
her which turned my head with pleasure
I am happy that you like our poems and
chapter. To think of you is to think
poetically. Her are a pair of poems for you dearest Sylvia. The second one
takes a conceit of Donne's (Busie olde
fool, Unrulie Sunne) and turns it round.
Nocturne
Pale blue stars ambush my sight:
Victorious ephemera
Of shooting stars traverse
The sky between our homes
On this cold winter night.
Oh for our hands to witness
The testament of love
With you on such night
That I may be at last
Love's willing Sisyphus.
Aubade
Apollo awakes the sleeping lovers,
Each tousled nude complains
At the intruding light, and of the need
To work the orchard or the fields
And leave from love for daylit hours.