(For some reason this post disappered from my blog, so here it is again. For the newest post look down one.)
First a poem:
To My Book
It will be looked for, book, when some but see
Thy title, Epigrams, and named of me,
Thou should'st be bold, licentious, full of gall,
Wormwood and sulphur, sharp, and toothed withal ;
Become a petulant thing, hurl ink and wit
As madmen stones, not caring whom they hit.
Deceive their malice, who could wish it so.
And by thy wiser temper, let men know
Thou art not so covetous of least self-fame
Made from the hazard of another's shame ;
Much less, with lewd, profane, and beastly phrase,
To catch the world's loose laughter, or vain gaze.
He that departs with his own honesty
For vulgar praise, doth it too dearly buy.
After a brief break the end of last week and the start of this week the cycle of test and papers starts again. Halloween was a blast, holidays during the week seem to extend the weekend even when you DON'T have days off. But back to real life where I'm not American Mcgee's Alice or Romana II. It was a nice break, and I adore my 'ass kicking' boots I bought for my costume.
What I don't love is my grade on my paper from History of British Literature, and I suspect the fact that he read my other paper (for the other class I have with him) first, and the first paper was much better. The topic I picked wasn't easily discussed with the resources I had and I should have taken a draft into him when I was having problems wording part of my argument in a way that non mind readers could understand.