'Strict grammar and good Latin, it has been well said, are different things.' --Quintilian

    "Atom Spy"

You think you know
what it is to cry
in this blank snow

you think you know.

Sorrows swiftly grow,
and moons go by
you think. You know
what it is: to cry.


"All Nature feels the renovating force
Of Winter, only to the thoughtless Eye
In Ruin seen. The Frost-concocted Glebe
Draws in abundant vegetable Soul,
And gathers Vigour for the coming Year.
A stronger Glow sits on the lively Cheek
Of ruddy Fire: and luculent along
The purer Rivers flow; their sullen Deeps,
Transparent, open to the Shepherd's Gaze,
And murmur hoarser at the fixing frost."

--James Thomson, "Winter"