August 2009
1 post
July 2009
71 posts
All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little skill, By little hands are plied While little hands make vain pretence Our wanderings to guide Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour Beneath such dreamy weather, To beg a tale of breath too weak To stir the tiniest feather! Yet what can one poor voice avail Against three tongues together? Imperious Prima...
