johnson-warton-i

Wheresoe’er I turn my view,
All is strange, yet nothing new;
Endless labour all along,
Endless labour to be wrong;
Phrase that Time has flung away,
Uncouth words in disarray:
Trickt in antique ruff and bonnet,
Ode and elegy and sonnet.

Thought:

“Thou swear’st thou’lt drink no more; kind Heaven send
Me such a cook or coachman, but no friend.”

Sir Charles Sedley | “To Julius,” after the Latin of Martial

INSTAGRAM

BANDCAMP

YOUTUBE