Top - 2nd hand
Shorts - New look/Diy
Is love a fancy, or a feeling? No.
It is immortal as immaculate Truth,
'Tis not a blossom shed as soon as youth,
Drops from the stem of life--for it will grow,
In barren regions, where no waters flow,
Nor rays of promise cheats the pensive gloom.
A darkling fire, faint hovering o'er a tomb,
That but itself and darkness nought doth show,
It is my love's being yet it cannot die,
Nor will it change, though all be changed beside;
Though fairest beauty be no longer fair,
Though vows be false, and faith itself deny,
Though sharp enjoyment be a suicide,
And hope a spectre in a ruin bare.
I've been watching Austen movies, reading a little, swimming even littler, eating loads of nice summery foods (=ice cream and strawberries, haha:) ) and reading poetry. I loved writing poems when I was wee but I've never been that into poetry. Except now. I've read this really thick book of poems and really enjoyed it. Suppose it's the Higher English working its magic. Or Mr Greig just got me brainwashed during last year.
Today I've got to abandon my princess life and start doing something more constructive. I've only now, after a month, unpacked everything after getting back from Scotland. My room's in a serious need of tidying. And it's Sunday today and I'll be in the kitchen all day. This'll be the 2nd Sunday roast I'm making. Last week I prepared a chicken for the first time ever and it was really good. I don't know why I didn't take any pictures as I was so proud of my first Sunday roast. Especially as it was almost as good as what my hostdad did! (Okay, I have a long way to that. Yet it was good!)
P.s. The earlier is Sonnet VII by Hartley Coleridge. Heard it in Sense and Sensibility for the first time and it's really beautiful, don't you think?