The postman delivered these guys the other week.
Though I doubt he was aware of what he had picked up from the sorting office.
|Lady's Mantle in the dye pot|
After a long cessation, O Venus, again are you stirring up tumults? Spare me, I beseech you, I beseech you. I am not the man I was under the dominion of good-natured Cynara. Forbear, O cruel mother of soft desires, to bend one bordering upon fifty, now too hardened for soft commands:
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
When I awoke and found the dawn was grey:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion
The author Margaret Mitchell was touched by the "far away, faintly sad sound" of the line.I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind
|Dog Tooth Spines on Artichoke|
Plus Pesky Snails