pathetic fallacy

It's raining, and gloomy, which requires mopey Victorians. I briefly considered In Memorium, but A. E. Housman is the mopiest of all mopey Victorians, and I love him.

X.

The weeping Pleiads wester,
And the moon is under seas;
From bourn to bourn of midnight
Far sighs the rainy breeze:

It sighs from a lost country
To a land I have not known;
The weeping Pleiads wester,
And I lie down alone.

XI.

The rainy Pleiads wester,
Orion plunges prone,
The stroke of midnight ceases
And I lie down alone.

The rainy Pleiads wester
And seek beyond the sea
The head that I shall dream of
That will not dream of me.

~ A. E. Housman, Feb. 1893, "The weeping Pleiads wester," from More Poems.

Sometimes I kind of want to beat up Moses Jackson for making Hous all mopey, but that would probably be counterproductive. I nearly posted Diffugere Nives, actually, but I couldn't without The Invention of Love and Horace on hand. My favorite Housman poem is actually "From far, from eve and morning," but that's a travel poem and this is a depressing rainy day poem, so here we are.

I'm really liking this poem-a-day thing! I think I shall keep it up.