One of my very favorites:
CARRION COMFORT by Gerald Manley Hopkins
Not, I'll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee;
Not untwist--slack they may be--these last strands of man
In me or, most weary, cry I can no more. I can;
Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be.
But ah, but O thou terrible, why wouldst thou rude on me
Thy wring-world right foot rock? Lay a lionlimb against me? scan
With darksome devouring eyes my bruised bone: and fan
O in turns of tempest, me heaped there; me frantic to avoid thee
Why? That my chaff might fly; my grain lie, sheer and clear.
Nay in all htat toil, that coil, since (seems) I kissed the rod,
Hand rather, my heart lo! lapped strength, stole joy, would laugh, cheer.
Cheer whom though? The hero whose heave-handling flung me
Me? or me that fought him? O which one? is it each one? That night,
Of now done darkness I wretch lay wresting with (my God!) my God.
Found at Poets.org.
That would be Oscar above - he
spent his Christmas vacation hissing
at me. I bribed him with treats and
eventually he got to the point where
he would walk by me, realize I was
there, halt in mid stride and walk on.
Less of a victory is typead. WTH is going on with the formatting? It's only giving me headers as font type?
I do not have the time or inclination to keep fooling around with this.