Poverty’s child –
He starts to grind the rice
And gazes at the moon.
“ARE YOU DARK?OR VERY LIGHT?” Revelation came.
“You mean- like plain or milk chocolate?” Her assent was clinical, crushing its light Impersonality. Rapidly, wave length adjusted, I chose, “West African sepia.” – and as an afterthought, “Down in my passport.
“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”
What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculties! In form and moving, how express and admirable!
“I LOVE THEE WITH A LOVE I SEEMED TO LOSE WITH MY LOST SAINTS- I LOVE THEE WITH THE BREATH, SMILES, TEARS, OF ALL MY LIFE! – AND, IF GOD CHOOSE, I SHALL BUT LOVE THEE BETTER AFTER DEATH.”
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?” This I whispered and an echo murmured back the word, Lenore!” Merely this and nothing more. - From The Raven; Edgar Allan Poe