(no subject)
From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no man lives for ever;
That dead men rise up never;
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
This excerpt of The Garden Of Proserpine was found etched into this cell wall in the lockup ward at a State Hospital. And inspired this song by Antenne.