Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day: It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; ... It was the lark, the herald of the morn, ... No nightingale. ... Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. As you once advised me Gareth " Ad gustum, ad infinitum, ad nauseam" which I always remember with a chuckle - or in your case, laughing until we were all crying with laughter.
DaisySylvans 1 month ago