I am a little world made cunningly
Of elements, and an angelic sprite ;
But black sin hath betray’d to endless night
My world’s both parts, and, O, both parts must die.
You which beyond that heaven which was most high
Have found new spheres, and of new land can write,
Pour new seas in mine eyes, that so I might
Drown my world with my weeping earnestly,
Or wash it if it must be drown’d no more.
But O, it must be burnt ; alas ! the fire
Of lust and envy burnt it heretofore,
And made it fouler ; let their flames retire,
And burn me, O Lord, with a fiery zeal
Of Thee and Thy house, which doth in eating heal.
Some of my favorite pages from Moon Temple’s “I Saw A Bird Sitting […]” book. A really wonderful collection of sad and funny and sad and funny poems, anecdotes, scraps of language and evidence of thought. Reading it feels like sitting in a drafty house with one-too-many sweaters on, reloading my inbox. It feels like desolate summer afternoons wasted on Worcester couches, laughing. It feels like walking by a house with a single lit window at three in the morning. If you have some time, check it out. (Link.)