- from Songs of Travel, XVII - Robert Louis Stevenson
- IN rigorous hours, when down the iron lane
- The redbreast looks in vain
- For hips and haws,
- Lo, shining flowers upon my window-pane
- The silver pencil of the winter draws.
- When all the snowy hill
- And the bare woods are still;
- When snipes are silent in the frozen bogs,
- And all the garden garth is whelmed in mire,
- Lo, by the hearth, the laughter of the logs -
- More fair than roses, lo, the flowers of fire!
Language Liberalism Freethought Birds Verbing Weirds Language only if you're expecting it to work in a simple way. This is a special case of the more general truth that Language Weirds. Only when a republic's life is in danger should a man uphold his government when it is in the wrong. There is no other time. The church says Earth is flat; but I have seen its shadow on the moon, and I have more confidence in a shadow than the church. If we can't find Heaven, there are always bluejays.
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