Only by the form, the pattern,
Can words or music reach
The stillness, as a Chinese jar still
Moves perpetually in its stillness.
T. S. Eliot
Four Quartets
Briunt Norton

Sunday, August 1, 2010

‘Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard’ by Thomas Gray

Full many a flow'r is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

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