He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, That dares not put it to the touch, To gain or lose it all.
He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, That dares not put it to the touch, To gain or lose it all.
History of the Night Throughout the course of the generations men constructed the night. At first she was blindness; thorns…
It would be an inconvenient rule if nothing could be done until everything can be done.
New Year Poem Tomorrow in the offices the year on the stamps will be altered; Tomorrow new diaries consulted, new…
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#-o