To me, fair friend, you never can be old,For as you were when first your eye I eyed,Such seems your beauty still. Three winters coldHave from the forests shook three summers' pride,Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'dIn process of the seasons have I seen,Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,Steal from his figure and no pace perceived;So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,Hath motion and mine eye may be deceived: For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred; Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead.William Shakespeare - Sonnet 104
11 years ago
furterteam
I Miss You
11 years ago
RamBam3000
Judy Dench? Seriously?
11 years ago
bendoverboy1
oh enochian splendour-Jamran, Pasolini, Coil-RIP to you all on the other side
11 years ago
Bob Sutton
Journey To Avebury could be found at Ubuweb but it's elusive ..
11 years ago
Metastate12
"Ah yet doth beauty, like a dial hand, Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived; So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand, Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived: For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred, Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead. "