Pale, beyond porch and portal, Crowned with calm leaves, she stands Who gathers all things mortal With cold immortal hands; Her languid...

Absent thee from felicity awhile, / And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain / To tell my story (Hamlet, 5.2.344-46) I. Three...

1. When very young I used to imagine a little girl, just my age, who lay beside me in bed and breathed softly. If she dreamed I dreamed,...