Fly envious Time, till thou run out thy race; Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours, Whose speed is but the heavy Plummets pace; And glut thy self with what thy womb devours, Which is no more then what is false and vain, And merely mortal dross; So little is our loss, So little is thy…
Pilgrim Notes
Just some observations about the world from a pilgrims point of view.
