We will change, even if to stone — our cynic smile,
our refusal, our so soon too brittle bough — unless to daylight
now, and flowers, and that secret feared most love,
we heed the timeless call to yield.
I’ve finished two more books since the avalanche. I highly recommend, should you care to find them, two plays, both of them simple, eloquent tragedies: Riders to the Sea, by J.M. Synge, and Paolo & Francesca, by Stephen Phillips.
I’m also well into two other books. One, which I’m enjoying as another kind of history of these curiously united States, is An Anthology of American Poetry: Lyric America, 1630-1930, edited by Alfred Kreymborg (includes Supplement 1930-1935). The other, in keeping with my inclination to eavesdrop, is Ellen Terry and Bernard Shaw: A Correspondence.
If you’re not familiar with these figures of nineteenth and twentieth century drama, or would care to refresh your memory, there is plenty of information online.