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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 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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