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As the resident artist at EcoHealth, I pen verse these days inspired by the specter of future pandemics; for my dissertation at Amerika-Institut of LMU München, where I edit a weekly circular on poetry, I'm anatomizing the prosody of E. A. Robinson's sonnets—I also teach English, tutor composition, and lead a literary circle.



by William Shakespeare

Ah wherefore with infection ſhould he liue,
And with his preſence grace impietie,
That ſinne by him aduantage ſhould atchiue,
And lace it ſelfe with his ſocietie ?
Why ſhould ſalſe painting immitate his cheeke,
And ſteale dead ſeeing of his liuing hew?
Why ſhoulde poore beautie indirectly ſeeke,
Roſes of ſhaddow,ſince his Roſe is true?
Why ſhould he liue,now nature banckrout is,
Beggerd of blood to bluſh through liuely vaines,
For ſhe hath no exchecker now but his,
And proud of many,liues vpon his gaines?
   O him ſhe ſtores,to ſhow what welth ſhe had,
   In daies long ſince,before theſe laſt so bad.

Note:  A recitation can be heard here.

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