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Thanks to a residency at EcoHealth, my verse these days finds inspiration in the specter of future pandemics; for my dissertation at LMU München, where I tutor and edit circulars on poetics and composition, I'm anatomizing the prosody of Robinson's sonnets—I also teach at MVHS and lead the Amerikahaus Literary Circle.



by John Milton

To Mr. H. Lawes, on his Aires

February 9, 1646

Harry, whose tuneful and well-measur'd Song

     First taught our English Musick how to span
     Words with just note and accent, not to scan
     With Midas Ears, committing short and long;
Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng,
     With praise enough for Envy to look wan;
     To after age thou shalt be writ the man
     That with smooth aire couldst humour best our tongue.
Thou honour'st Verse, and Verse must lend her wing
     To honour thee, the Priest of Phœbus quire,
     That tun'st their happiest lines in Hymn, or Story.
Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher
     Than his Casella, whom he woo'd to sing,
     Met in the milder shades of Purgatory.

Note:  A recitation can be found here.

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