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Posted by: Cold-Dodger ( )
Date: May 04, 2016 11:29AM

Was there ever a cause too lost,
Ever a cause that was lost too long,
Or that showed with the lapse of time too vain,
For the generous tears of youth and song?

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Posted by: Elder Berry ( )
Date: May 04, 2016 11:48AM

In White - Poem by Robert Frost

A dented spider like a snow drop white
On a white Heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of lifeless satin cloth -
Saw ever curious eye so strange a sight? -
Portent in little, assorted death and blight
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth? -
The beady spider, the flower like a froth,
And the moth carried like a paper kite.

What had that flower to do with being white,
The blue prunella every child's delight.
What brought the kindred spider to that height?
(Make we no thesis of the miller's plight.)
What but design of darkness and of night?
Design, design! Do I use the word aright?



This often comes to mind when I think of the temple.

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Posted by: Cold-Dodger ( )
Date: May 04, 2016 12:36PM

... of Robert Frost. Then I searched and found out that "IN WHITE" is a former version of the one that is now called "Design."

Here they are side by side, how does it affect your view of your understanding of the first one?

http://www.starve.org/teaching/intro-poetry/design2.html

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Posted by: Elder Berry ( )
Date: May 04, 2016 03:30PM

I went looking for "Design" and found the White poem.

In reading them both, I realized Design encapsulates the idea that in a dark design the color white is used.

The last two lines sum it up for me.

"What but design of darkness to appall?—

If design govern in a thing so small."

For many Mormons the design of the temple experiences is "a thing so small." It wasn't for me.

Here is "Design" Mormonized.

I found a dimpled Mormon, fat and white,

On a white altar, holding up their hands

With white clothing and a sash cloth—

Assorted signs and tokens of death and blight

Mixed ready to begin their morning of resurrection right,

Like the ingredients of a witches' broth—

A snow-draped Mormon, a flower in a deadly frock,

And dead names carried like a paper kite.



What had that Mormon to do with being white,

The wayward blessings of must not tell-all?

What brought this kindred Mormon to this blight,

Then started this white cloth thinking in their rite?

What but design of darkness to apparel?—

A design to govern a Mormon so small.

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