When I am dead, my dearest, by Christina Rossetti
> When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the »
> When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the »
You must understand. Anyone can understand that. Walkabout »
"Do you have a name?" "Yes." Penny Dreadful »
> 'I have been thinking, Gerald,' she said, with an insulting nonchalance, `that I shall not go back to England.' > 'Oh, »
> "Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such a one as thyself." (David, Psalms 50.21) > ['Will sprawl, now that the heat »