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.
“My theme has always been paradise lost, always the lost cause, the lost leader, the lost utopia.”
Marguerite Young
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