I feel dead inside.

 After great pain, a formal feeling comes – 

The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs – 

The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’ 

And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’? 

 

The Feet, mechanical, go round – 

A Wooden way 

Of Ground, or Air, or Ought – 

Regardless grown, 

A Quartz contentment, like a stone – 

 

This is the Hour of Lead – 

Remembered, if outlived, 

As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow – 

First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –

Song for the day

I don't have any words, so I'll use somebody else's.

"Paul Simon - American Tune (2015)" (Watch on YouTube)

I have a question for riders!

This is famed courtesan Cora Pearl and Prince Achille Murat in an 1865 posed studio photograph. You will notice that Prince Achille's legs are nearly straight, and stretched forward of the saddle. Is this a French thing, or was it the proper seat all over Europe? And when did it change, do you know?