Cradle Song

Sleep, sleep, beauty bright,
Dreaming in the joys of night;
Sleep, sleep; in thy sleep
Little sorrows sit and weep.

Sweet babe, in thy face
Soft desires I can trace,
Secret joys and secret smiles,
Little pretty infant wiles.

As thy softest limbs I feel,
Smiles as of the morning steal
O'er thy cheek, and o'er thy breast
Where thy little heart doth rest.

O the cunning wiles that creep
In thy little heart asleep!
When thy little heart doth wake,
Then the dreadful night shall break.

William Blake

WTF Friday: Betty 1 - 0 CD Collection

Friday, 10 February 2012


Flannery Says:
13 February 2012 at 18:35


Karen V. Says:
13 February 2012 at 19:17

Oh Betty! Oops...

Marsupial Mama Says:
13 February 2012 at 19:19


She's quite the climber. She literally *won't* stop.

Her favorite game was climbing from the chair to the table and then throwing the CDs on the floor. I put up with it for two days then boxed up our entire CD collection.

Thanks Betty. :P

Þorgerður Says:
14 February 2012 at 17:40

OK... I am really slooow I did not get the post at all.
That is pretty amazing ..great climbing skills.

Marsupial Mama Says:
14 February 2012 at 20:11

**lol** Sorry, should have made it clearer, I think it's the font cause you can't really tell it's a zero, it looks more like a capital O.

And yes, she's a *very* enthusiastic climber... **sigh**

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The Clod and the Pebble

"Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a heaven in hell's despair."

So sung a little Clod of Clay,
Trodden with the cattle's feet,
But a Pebble of the brook
Warbled out these metres meet:

"Love seeketh only Self to please,
To bind another to its delight,
Joys in another's loss of ease,
And builds a hell in heaven's despite."

William Blake
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