TO AN ASTROLOGER.
“The Fault is not in Our Stars.” However fine The nuts and wine, Beneath the smile Of the stuffed crocodile; However bright The watchful night; In Milton’s tower. With Plato’s power; (While moons and moles Rule common souls!) All sprites allied, And multiplied. By seventy-seven. To wring from sad Styx-lore the leven And flame to add Flight prophets had; “Secure and glad From heaven to heaven.”— Give me the day Of open day; Mere rock and fire. More sun and star: Or Shelley’s - dreams; The crags and gleams, And celandines In Wordsworth’s lines! —R.H.F.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/HBTRIB19231117.2.107
Bibliographic details
Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XIII, Issue 285, 17 November 1923, Page 12
Word Count
97TO AN ASTROLOGER. Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XIII, Issue 285, 17 November 1923, Page 12
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