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All Losses Are Restored

The stranger paused. He marvelled
At a heart-rooted pain.
The thorn ran deep, the bud
Spread a crimson stain.
He would not pluck it, for fear
The rose scattered like rain.

From Deor by an Anonymous Old English poet, 10th century

I grieve and dare not show my discontent,
I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,
I seem stark mute yet inwardly do prate.
I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned,
Since from myself my other self I turned.

From On Monsieur's Departure by Queen Elizabeth I, 1582


British entertainment company 57 Productions has just launched a new ipoems Web site>

The site allows users to download and listen to poetry on their MP3 players and iPods.

Wonderful idea. AP reports that one of the poems is a Caribbean version of Chaucer's Wife of Bath. I admit to hoping that the poetry is not all modern. I would love to hear Browning's Childe Roman to the Dark Tower Came or any of Shakespeare's Sonnets:

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.