One day in early August, I looked over the the industrial stairs leading to my bedroom and thought, wow, that white looks a little ding...
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Dead Poets Society | W.H. Auden (In Memory of W.B. Yeats)
How wonderful to hear the poet's own voice. No man honors the dead better than Auden. Well, maybe Whitman. No need for a competition, though. We're just so lucky to have had both bend the language so beautifully.