Saturday, February 20, 2010

The Direct Market in a Sonnet

Sweet sales, renew your force; be it not said
Your edge should blunter be than appetite,
Which but to-day by feeding is allay'd,
To-morrow sharpen'd in his former might:
So, sales, be you; although to-day you fill
Your hungry eyes even till they wink with fullness,
To-morrow see again, and do not kill
The spirit of sales with a perpetual dullness.
Let this sad int'rim like the ocean be
Which parts the shore, where one contracted new
Comes daily to the bank, that, when he sees
Returns from sales, more blest may be the view;
Or call it winter, which, being full of care,
Makes summer's welcome thrice more wisht, more rare.

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