AG2023_1150369a and foliage, not my own, seemed mine

AG2023_1150369a

There was a time when, though my path was rough,

         This joy within me dallied with distress,

And all misfortunes were but as the stuff

         Whence Fancy made me dreams of happiness:

For hope grew round me, like the twining vine,

And fruits, and foliage, not my own, seemed mine.

But now afflictions bow me down to earth:

Nor care I that they rob me of my mirth;

                But oh! each visitation

Suspends what nature gave me at my birth,

         My shaping spirit of Imagination.

For not to think of what I needs must feel,

         But to be still and patient, all I can;

And haply by abstruse research to steal

         From my own nature all the natural man—

         This was my sole resource, my only plan:

Till that which suits a part infects the whole,

And now is almost grown the habit of my soul.

Dejection: An Ode, Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The Other Significant Others, Rhaina Cohen. (The Marginalian)

Abolish the Family, Sophie Lewis. (Verso) (Liber)

À Haïti, au cœur de l’enfer, La Libre, Reportages publiés le 13 août 2024.

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