to my love

…from the quills of the dead white poets

Edmund Spenser (1552 – 1599)

One day I wrote her name upon the sand

But came the waves and washed it away:

Again I wrote it with a second hand,

But came the tide, and made my pains his prey.

Vain man, said she, that doest in vain assay

A mortal thing so to immortalize,

For I myself shall like to this decay,

And eek my name be wiped out likewise.

Not so (quoth I), let baser things devise

To die in dust, but you shall live by fame:

My verses your virtues rare shall eternize,

And in the heavens write your glorious name,

Where whenas Death shall all the world subdue,

Our love shall live, and later life renew.

/from Amoretti, Sonnet LXXV/

About Paul Jacko

Jacko was born in Czechoslovakia not long before the communist putsch in February 1948. He studied industrial chemistry there and left in 1969 for Australia, where he became a lawyer and established his own practice. He has now retired and beside hunting, fishing, camping, prospecting and playing golf he amuses himself by writing.
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