Mother’s crimson leather bags
Crammed with saint cards
And tiny glass bottles of liquor.
The bright stitch
Of God’s final coming.
Dirt and dregs, silt and stars.
The sweet song
Rinsing through me
Like the memory
Of a dream.
|1600||Henry V, Act V, Scene III [What's he that wishes so?]||William Shakespeare|
|1600||The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd||Sir Walter Ralegh|
|1601||Let Us Live and Love (5)||Gaius Valerius Catullus|
|1602||An ABC (The Prayer of Our Lady)||Geoffrey Chaucer|
|1602||When that I was and a little tiny boy||William Shakespeare|
|1603||Hamlet, Act III, Scene I [To be, or not to be]||William Shakespeare|
|1603||Hamlet, Act I, Scene I [Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes]||William Shakespeare|
|1603||On My First Son||Ben Jonson|
|1603||Hamlet, Act IV, Scene IV [How all occasions do inform against me]||William Shakespeare|
|1603||Hamlet, Act III, Scene III [Oh my offence is rank]||William Shakespeare|