Fareweel, my rhyme-compoſing billie! / Your native ſoil was right ill-willie; / But may ye flouriſh like a lily, / Now bonilie! / I'll toaſt ye in my hindmoſt gillie, / Tho' owre the Sea!
He lunched on grilled cheese in Toronto and sashimi in Tokyo and had the chance to stick his finger in a true-to-life Dutch dike in Almere, Holland.
I see smurves and I see milves because of wolves and of elves. -BC
I see smurves and I see milves because of wolves and of elves.
He stopped speaking for a moment, like a man walking who comes to a brink; perhaps it was an artful pause, but it made the stars, the night, seem to wait, as if story, narration, history, lay imbricated in the nature of things; and the cosmos was for the story, not the story for the cosmos.
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