Sunday Sonnet.

Yes, there are more Belloc sonnets. About another four: the cycle is ending. Belloc was a journalist, he wrote quickly. For he had to eat.

It was the aristocrats and those with tenure who could

xxxiv

Would that I had £300,000

Invested in some strong security ;
A Midland Country House with formal grounds,

A Town House, and a House beside the sea,
And one in Spain, and one in Normandy,

And Friends innumerable at my call
And youth serene — and underneath it all

One steadfast, passionate flame to nurture me.

Then would I chuck for good my stinking trade

Of writing tosh at Is. 6d. a quire !
And soar like young Bellcrophon arrayed
High to the filmy Heavens of my desire. . . .
But that’s all over. Here’s the world again.
Bring me the Blotter. Fill the fountain-pen

Hilaire Belloc.

Bellaphoron was accused of ravishing a queen. The king, wanting not to bring the wrath of the Gods upon him, sent him to another, with a sealed message to his cousin telling him to kill this man, who ravished his relative. SInce that king did not want to offend the gods by not offering hospitality he sent him on a task: to kill the Chimera.

To do this Bellaphoron recruited Pegasus.

And then managed to vanquish the Chimera. However, he offended Zeus with his hubris, was cast off the flying horse, and ended his life as a crippled beggar.

Perhaps it is better to write by the word, and take up again one’s pen.

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