Stockholm today. Hence the submarine.
"His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness - to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as threshold brook.
He has his Winter too pale misfeature,
Or else he would forget his mortal nature."
(John Keats - "The Human Seasons")
"His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness - to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as threshold brook.
He has his Winter too pale misfeature,
Or else he would forget his mortal nature."
(John Keats - "The Human Seasons")
1 comment:
God, I love Keats
/A
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