Ta Patrick.
The 172 is meaningless, it belongs to a set I did called 4940, everything
has a number but they have no significance.
Care
Dave
----- Original Message -----
From: "Patrick McManus" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Tuesday, November 08, 2005 7:52 AM
Subject: Re: Thought for the day
> Ah Dave that last line!
> Cheers P&VB
> Ps what's the 172?
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Poetryetc provides a venue for a dialogue relating to poetry and
> poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On Behalf Of David Bircumshaw
> Sent: 08 November 2005 01:59
> To: [log in to unmask]
> Subject: Re: Thought for the day
>
> 172
>
> Quicksilver
>
> He shall be flesshie of nose, and spare of body, and as the Sunne is lord
of
> light, dry of nature though quick and crafty and subtill of Wit and Tongue
> and Science and will have great love for ladies and gentlewomen yet shall
> have great harm by them and when he is married, men shall not set so much
> store by him as they did before. He shall be a friend of rogues and
> vagabonds yet be servant or carrier to some great Lord or else a receiver
of
> his money and will love to preach and speake faire language and rhetorick.
> You may denote him by the little finger. He shall take his hue from what
> surrounds, he shall be unloving, loving, unlusting, lusting. A shepherd of
> thin dreams who brings the coat of many colours a night-watching and a
> door-waylaying thief. Who lives for others. He shall be a good man of the
> church and not espouse the Arts of Warre. He shall account of worth
schools,
> jackdaws, hares, bowling greens, telephones, swallows, fairs at
WhitMonday,
> digital radio, foxes, squirrels, sarabandes, the Great Western line,
> blackbirds, rivers in winter, curls, lavender and wine, the search for
> distant planets as in those presumed about Beta Pictori or 66 Cancri,
> board-games, the night sky, tennis courts, libraries, leather,
lepidoptera,
> moorhens, weasels and all those by nature witty and inconstant. He shall
> love poetrie and fear Apollo. He shall sign on on Fridays and drink dry
> cider. He shall look for his soul in others' eyes. I woke in the small
hours
> and turned to my side. I've been dreaming I was alive I mumbled. Not now,
> I'm tired she replied.
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