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Happy birthday, Alan.

A Birthday MY heart is like a singing bird   Whose nest is in a water’d shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree   Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit; My heart is like a rainbow shell   That paddles in a halcyon sea; My heart is gladder than all these,   Because my love is come to […]

Music, When Soft Voices Die

Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heap’d for the belovèd’s bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on. – Percy Bysshe Shelley

Things that make me happy.