Professor Chaucer's Office Hours, Wednesday

[geoff-chaucer.livejournal.com]

Chaucer is in his office for a couple of hours this afternoon, in hopes that those students who need to turn in make-up work or discuss projects will do so. Today even. He's also happy to talk to anyone else who stops by, especially if they happen to have coffee with them.

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[death-n-binky.livejournal.com]

*DEATH, still a day behind and cursing silently under what passes for DEATH's breath, hands in his make-up work. A sonnet. Unable to think of anything incredibly touching, having no anatomy to touch, he has chosen a very particular peice by John Donne. Accompanying the sonnet is a written explaination on the actual workings of Death and how it relates the sonnet.*

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee, 5
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell, 10
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.