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Horae Canonicae – Sext

W.H. Auden I You need not see what someone is doingto know if it is his vocation, you have only to watch his eyes:a cook mixing a sauce, a surgeon making a primary incision,a clerk completing a bill of lading, wear the same rapt expression,forgetting themselves in a function. How beautiful it is,that eye-on-the-object look. […]

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Horae Canonicae – Terce

W.H. Auden After shaking paws with his dog,(Whose bark would tell the world that he is always kind,)The hangman sets off briskly over the heath;He does not know yet who will be providedTo do the high works of Justice with:Gently closing the door of his wife’s bedroom,(Today she has one of her headaches)With a sigh […]

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Horae Canonicae – Prime

W.H. Auden Simultaneously, as soundlessly,Spontaneously, suddenlyAs, at the vaunt of the dawn, the kindGates of the body fly openTo its world beyond, the gates of the mind,The horn gate and the ivory gateSwing to, swing shut, instantaneouslyQuell the nocturnal rummageOf its rebellious fronde, ill-favored,Ill-natured and second-rate,Disenfranchised, widowed and orphanedBy an historical mistake:Recalled from the shades […]

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Beauty & Justice

He thought the world’s heart beat at some terrible cost and that the world’s pain and its beauty moved in a relationship of diverging equity and that in this headlong deficit the blood of multitudes might ultimately be exacted for the vision of a single flower. –  Cormac McCarthy. All the Pretty Horses. Knopf, 1992. […]

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