What's the railroad to me?
I never go to see
Where it ends.
It fills a few hollows,
And makes banks for the swallows,
It sets the sand a-blowing,
And the blackberries a-growing.
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Quotes of the Day
Irish poets, learn your trade, sing whatever is well made, scorn the sort now growing up all out of shape from toe to top
by Marie SyrkinI have never gone back to Ithaca,
Afraid of the small headstone, the weed-choked plot.
Now there is a plaque with your name
In a kindergarten in Jerusalem.
In Jerusalem
In a house for children
With ...