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G 11.26-27: I see all the sons of Dhritarashtra, along with their allied kings, including Bheeshma, Dronacharya, Karn, and also the generals from our side, rushing headlong into Your fearsome mouths. I see some with their heads smashed between Your terrible teeth.
3 Feb 2023 09:35

G 11.26-27: I see all the sons of Dhritarashtra, along with their allied kings, including Bheeshma, Dronacharya, Karn, and also the generals from our side, rushing headlong into Your fearsome mouths. I see some with their heads smashed between Your terrible teeth. 

G 11.26-27: I see all the sons of Dhritarashtra, along with their allied kings, including Bheeshma, Dronacharya, Karn, and also the generals from our side, rushing headlong into Your fearsome mouths. I see some with their heads smashed between Your terrible teeth.


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Robert Louis Stevenson De Erotio Puella This girl was sweeter than the song of swans, And daintier than the lamb upon the lawns Or Curine oyster. She, the flower of girls, Outshone the light of Erythraean pearls; The teeth of India that with polish glow, The untouched lilies or the morning snow. Her tresses did gold-dust outshine And fair hair of women of the Rhine. Compared to her the peacock seemed not fair, The squirrel lively, or the phoenix rare; Her on whose pyre the smoke still hovering waits; Her whom the greedy and unequal fates On the sixth dawning of her natal day, My child-love and my playmate - snatcht away. G 11.26-27: I see all the sons of Dhritarashtra, along with their allied kings, including Bheeshma, Dronacharya, Karn, and also the generals from our side, rushing headlong into Your fearsome mouths. I see some with their heads smashed between Your terrible teeth. Robert Louis Stevenson Duddingstone With caws and chirrupings, the woods In this thin sun rejoice. The Psalm seems but the little kirk That sings with its own voice. The cloud-rifts share their amber light With the surface of the mere - I think the very stones are glad To feel each other near. Once more my whole heart leaps and swells And gushes o'er with glee; The fingers of the sun and shade Touch music stops in me. Now fancy paints that bygone day When you were here, my fair - The whole lake rang with rapid skates In the windless winter air. You leaned to me, I leaned to you, Our course was smooth as flight - We steered - a heel-touch to the left, A heel-touch to the right. We swung our way through flying men, Your hand lay fast in mine: We saw the shifting crowd dispart, The level ice-reach shine. I swear by yon swan-travelled lake, By yon calm hill above, I swear had we been drowned that day We had been drowned in love.
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