Note to Self (after a chatroom exchange reminds Self why she does not like this other person)

[capri0mni]

Tis ill for a mind to anger inclined
To think of small injuries now,
If wrath be to seek, do not lend her your cheek,
Nor let her inhabit thy brow.
Cross out of thy books malevolent looks,
Both beauty and youth's decay,
And wholly consort with mirth and with sport
To drive the cold winter away.

(Second verse of a 17th Century English Christmas Carol)

Comments

[alto2.livejournal.com]

Have you heard Loreena McKennitt's wonderful setting of this text? It's quite lovely. I'd never really noticed the text before, but now that it's running through my head, I am going to have to go listen...