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Today's Stichomancy for Italo Calvino

The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Poems by Oscar Wilde:

And treads one snowdrop under foot, and runs Over the mossy knoll, and blackbirds fly Across our path at evening, and the suns Stay longer with us; ah! how good to see Grass-girdled spring in all her joy of laughing greenery

Dance through the hedges till the early rose, (That sweet repentance of the thorny briar!) Burst from its sheathed emerald and disclose The little quivering disk of golden fire Which the bees know so well, for with it come Pale boy's-love, sops-in-wine, and daffadillies all in bloom.

The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Lover's Complaint by William Shakespeare:

Lending soft audience to my sweet design, And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath, That shall prefer and undertake my troth.

'This said, his watery eyes he did dismount, Whose sights till then were levell'd on my face; Each cheek a river running from a fount With brinish current downward flow'd apace: O, how the channel to the stream gave grace! Who, glaz'd with crystal, gate the glowing roses That flame through water which their hue encloses.

'O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies

The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Life in the Iron-Mills by Rebecca Davis:

drinking since she went out, and had crept nearer the door. The girl Janey slept heavily in the corner. He went up to her, touching softly the worn white arm with his fingers. Some bitterer thought stung him, as he stood there. He wiped the drops from his forehead, and went into the room beyond, livid, trembling. A hope, trifling, perhaps, but very dear, had died just then out of the poor puddler's life, as he looked at the sleeping, innocent girl,--some plan for the future, in which she had borne a part. He gave it up that moment, then and forever. Only a trifle, perhaps, to us: his face grew a shade paler,-- that was all. But, somehow, the man's soul, as God and the


Life in the Iron-Mills