Go, little book,
To him who, on a lute with horns of pearl,
Sang of the white feet of the Golden Girl:
And bid him look
Into thy pages: it may hap that he
May find that golden maidens dance through thee.
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Quotes of the Day
I was working on the proof of one of my poems all the morning, and took out a comma. In the afternoon I put it back again
by Louis UntermeyerThe brain forgets but the blood will remember.
There, when the play of sense is over,
The last, low spark in the darkest chamber
Will hold all there is of love and lover.
The war of words, the ...