Grief By Elizabeth
Barrett Browning
I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless;
That only men incredulous of despair,
Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air
Beat upward to God’s throne in loud access
Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness,
In souls as countries, lieth silent-bare
Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare
Of the absolute heavens. Deep-hearted man, express
Grief for thy dead in silence like to death—
Most like a monumental statue set
In everlasting watch and moveless woe
Till itself crumble to the dust beneath.
Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet:
If it could weep, it could arise and go.
Ready to take the plunge
Would you trade out your birthday and Christmas presents to jump into a freezing lake in March? See why these three sisters will do just that.
An extraordinary life: Easton Fangerow
A dying boy's powerful spirit enriches his family, friends, and a pediatric hospice program.
Doing it all for the animals
A Joliet Junior College veterinary technician student is doing more than realizing her lifelong dream. She volunteers at a local shelter and is organizing a benefit to help raise money for the shelter's planned dog run.
Put your camera to good use
A photojournlist with thirty plus years of experience hosts workshops so people may receive the best use from their digital cameras.
A musician through the years
Although Mitch Alvarez has been writing, playing, and recording music for over four decades, he finally has completed his dream project, and it's a good one.
No comments:
Post a Comment