History is an account, mostly false, of events, mostly unimportant, which are brought about by rulers, mostly knaves, and soldiers, mostly fools.
Song, from Pippa Passes The year's at the spring, And day's at the morn; Morning's at seven; The hill-side's dew-pearled;…
Morning I went out on an April morning All alone, for my heart was high, I was a child of…
Appreciation Auntie did you feel no pain Falling from that willow tree? Could you do it, please again 'Cos my…