Nothing wilts faster than laurels that have been rested upon.
Man please thy maker and be merry set not for this world a cherry.
Nothing wilts faster than laurels that have been rested upon.
The Dalliance of the Eagles Skirting the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled…
How did the party go in Portman Square? I cannot tell you; Juliet was not there. And how did Lady…
Literature is the noblest of all the arts. Music dies on the air, or at best exists only as a…