Favorite Poem: Sonnet XXVII by William Shakespeare

Weary with toils, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired,
But then begin a journey in my head,
To work my mind, when body's work's expired.
For then my thoughts, from far where I abide,
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see:
Save that my soul's imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,
Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.
Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,
For thee and for myself no quiet find.

The Untraveled Road

Hi. You can find out more about me through my weblog.

I'm not experienced in computer coding, but I know a little HTML. I'm interested in learning more, but I'm studying something else. My career goal (so far) is to study the environment. I believe in human beings.

Slant Rime, answering Frost

With heavy heart, I look at every byway.
As the alternative to the main road.
Supposedly it's less traveled by.
The path looks new grown with grass,
No tractor's near to have it plowed.
Up main road, regretting my known loss.

Which OS are You?

Author: Alan F.
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This page was last edited in 2004-06-20.

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