the enaque show

Philip Freneau

Thus, some tall tree that long hath stood
The glory of its native wood,
By storms destroyed, or length of years,
Demands the tribute of our tears.

The pile, that took long time to raise,
To dust returns by slow decays:
But, when its destined years are o’er,
We must regret the loss the more.

So long accustomed to your aid,
The world laments your exit made;
So long befriended by your art,
Philosopher, ’tis hard to part!–

When monarchs tumble to the ground,
Successors easily are found:
But, matchless FRANKLIN! what a few
Can hope to rival such as YOU,
Who seized from kings their sceptered pride,
And turned the lightning darts aside.

Va provoc la ceva: ganditi-va la un scriitor pe care doriti sa il cititi [sau daca vreti video] si eu o sa ma chinui sa il pun pe blog. Cu ocazia asta o sa lucrez si la proiectul pe care il tot aman, videobiblioteca !

 mai misogin de atat nu se poate ! !