words
There's rue for you, and here's some for me. We may call it herb of grace o' Sundays. O, you must wear your rue with a difference.
posted by someone @ 5/10/2004 11:08:00 AM 0 comments
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sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned / On lips that are for others; deep as love, / Deep as first love, and wild with all regret !
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"I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar"
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