Poem of the Day: Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour. July 13, 1798 By William Wordsworth. I've chosen this poem because to me it describes most perfectly the experience of meditation, of switching off the mind and making contact with the Divine. The... Continue Reading →
4: Love in the time of Covid-19
Poem of the day: La Belle Dame sans Merci by John Keats, 1819. Perhaps my favourite opening lines of any poem: O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms Alone and paley loitering? The sedge has withered from the lake And no birds sing. The metre, that final line - it's pure music. And the last two... Continue Reading →