Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Psyche by Coleridge

Thinking about using this phrase for my fourth book.

The butterfly the ancient Grecians made
The soul's fair emblem, and its only name--
But of the soul, escaped the slavish trade
Of mortal life !--For in this earthly frame
Ours is the reptile's lot, much toil, much blame,
Manifold motions making little speed,
And to deform and kill the things whereon we feed. 

1 comment:

  1. Cool, I think I can post a comment know without a FBI security clearance check. haha