Further Thoughts of Nathaniel Bishop

Posted: December 17, 1992 in Poetry
Tags: , , , , , ,

My dearest Ursula is just the kind
To wilfully abandon all her soul
To satiate my Master’s guessless mind
And pour her fiery blood into my bowl
Of copper wrought from star-flung metal
Which rests upon the altar ‘neath my books.
This pact of ours is something left to settle:
A child? If only it won’t have my looks!
A Bishop heir! You’ll lose the Langsford end
And you’ll be mine, or more correct, you’ll see
That you to great Agatha I might send
And you she’ll give to Him That Should Not Be.
To Bishop, yea, the fateful book was sent,
We need results from an experiment…

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