onsdag 8. august 2012

Life is like playing a violin solo in public and learning the instrument as one goes on...



A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in loathes a wantonness:
A Lawn e about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction:-
An erring Lace, which here and there
Enthrals the Crimson Stomacher:- 
A Cuffe neglect full, and thereby
Rib-bands to flow confusedly:-
A winning wave (deserving Note)
In the tempestuous petticote:-
A careless shoe-string in whose tye
I see a Wilde civility:-
Doe more bewitch me, than when Art
Is too precise in every part. 



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