All dark and comfortless.

“My love is as a fever, longing stillFor that which longer nurseth the disease;F…”

“For you, in my respect, are all the world.Then how can it be said I am aloneWhe…”

“It is my soul that calls upon my name;How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by…”

“Бедната мъдрост често става роб на богатата глупост”