lesamici
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky / . . . / Thy sting is not so sharp / As friend remember'd not.
Friday, April 28, 2006
It's for the birds
"
Though aloft on turf or perch or poor low stage,
Both sing sometímes the sweetest, sweetest spells,
Yet both droop deadly sómetimes in their cells
Or wring their barriers in bursts of fear or rage."
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