By Sir Philip Sidney
Walking in bright PhÅ“bus’ blaze,
Where with heat oppressed I was,
I got to a shady wood,
Where green leaves did newly bud;
And of grass was plenty dwelling,
Decked with pied flowers sweetly smelling.
Saturday, May 16, 2015
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Wolf and Hound
By Adam Lindsay Gordon
"The hills like giants at a hunting lay
Chin upon hand, to see the game at bay."—Browning.
You'll take my tale with a little salt,
But it needs none, nevertheless,
"The hills like giants at a hunting lay
Chin upon hand, to see the game at bay."—Browning.
You'll take my tale with a little salt,
But it needs none, nevertheless,
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