‘Tis the yeares midnight, and it is the dayes, Lucies, who scarce seaven houres herself unmasks, The Sunne is spent, and now his flasks Send forth light squibs, no constant rayes; The worlds whole sap is shrunk…’ From A Nocturnall Upon S. Lucies Day: being the shortest day, by John Donne – – – – … Continue reading Tis the yeares midnight…
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