| An Immorality... Ezra Pound... |
|
Sing we for love and idleness, Naught else is is worth the having. |
|
Though I have been in many a land, There is naught else in living. |
|
And I would rather have my sweet, Though rose-leaves die of grieving, |
|
Than do high deeds in Hungary To pass all men's believing. |
this site owned and maintained by James Dempsey...