Dronten har, til å være sitt nebbete seg, vært påtagelig poesiløs den siste tiden. Det rettes herved opp med et stykke lyrikk fra Christina Rossettis fjærpenn, som på dystert vis gjenspeiler den nebbetes sinnsstemning.
De Profundis
Oh why is heaven built so far,
Oh why is earth set so remote?
I cannot reach the nearest star
That hangs afloat.
I would not care to reach the moon,
One round monotonous of change;
Yet even she repeats her tune
Beyond my range.
I never watch the scatter'd fire
Of stars, or sun's far-trailing train,
But all my heart is one desire,
And all in vain:
For I am bound with fleshly bands,
Joy, beauty, lie beyond my scope;
I strain my heart, I stretch my hands,
And catch at hope.
European Onions.
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