This quintessence of dust

What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how

infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and

admirable . . . . and yet,to me, what is this quintessence of dust?

Saturday, October 11, 2014

While stroling through the park

 While strolling through the park one day
In the merry merry month of May
I was taken by surprise
By a pair of roguish eyes
In a moment my poor heart was stole away

A smile was all he gave to me

Of course we were as happy as can be

Strolling Through The Park One Day

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