"I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom. I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients." Gustave Courbet

03 November 2024

Think.

Wyeth, Apple Orchard, 1963


THE WOOD so WILD

I must go walke the woed so wild
And wander here and there
In dred and dedly fere,
For where I trusted I am begild,
And all for one.

Thus am I banished from my blis
By craft and false pretens,
Fautless, without offens,
As of return no certen is,
And all for fer of one.

My bed shall be under the grenwod tree,
A tuft of brakes under my hed,
As one from joye were fled.
Thus from my lif day by day I flee,
And all for one.

The ronning stremes shall be my drinke,
Acorns shall be my fode:
Nothing may do me good,
But when of your bewty I do think,
And all for love of one.

Sir Thomas Wyatt

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