Without that Muse who once did him inspire,
When he in pain is racked upon a bed,
Like lone King Lear he’s bound to a wheel of fire
And his own tears scald him like molten lead.
Jerusalem
9 September 2004
Without that Muse who once did him inspire,
When he in pain is racked upon a bed,
Like lone King Lear he’s bound to a wheel of fire
And his own tears scald him like molten lead.
Jerusalem
9 September 2004
How ironic and poetically just That the blatant ethnic-cleansing And