Draw up your chair …
I could a tale unfold whose
lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze
thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like stars,
start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combinèd
locks to part
And each particular hair to stand
on end,
Like quills upon
the fretful porpentine … !
Click here, then “Look
Inside”, to read for free …
No comments:
Post a Comment