Hope is a good breakfast, but it is a bad supper.
Hope is a good breakfast, but it is a bad supper.
The Sun Rising Busy old fool, unruly Sun, Why dost thou thus, Through windows, and through curtains, call on us?…
The book of my enemy has been remaindered And I am pleased In vast quantities it has been remaindered.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded…