Exhausting Thought, And Hiving Wisdom With Each

And Mocha's Berry, From Arabia Pure, In Small Fine China Cups, Came In At Last. Gold Cups Of Filigree, Made To Secure The Hand From Burning, Underneath Them Place. Cloves, Cinnamon And Saffron, Too, Were Boiled Up With The Coffee, Which, I Think, They Spoiled.

The Bright Sun Was Extinguish'd, And The Stars Did Wander Darkling In The Eternal Space.

Damn Description, It Is Always Disgusting.

Good But Rarely Came From Good Advice.

Think You, If Laura Had Been Petrarch's Wife, He Would Have Written Sonnets All His Life?.