- Mark Olival-Bartley
- 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
Alas 'tis true,I haue gone here and there,
And made my ſelfe a motley to the view,
Gor'd mine own thoughts, fold cheap what is moſt deare,
Made old offences of affections new.
Moſt true it is,that I haue lookt on truth
Aſconce and ſtrangely: But by all aboue,
Theſe blenches gaue my heart an other youth,
And worfe eſſaies prou'd thee my beſt of loue,
Now all is done,haue what ſhall haue no end,
Mine appetite I neuer more will grin'de
On newer proofe,to trie an older friend,
A god in loue,to whom I am confin'd.
Then giue me welcome,next my heauen the beſt,
Euen to thy pure and moſt moſt louing breſt.
Note: A recitation can be heard here.