The moving finger writes, and , having writ, moves on; nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your tears blot out a word of it.
Tr. EDWARD FITZGERALD.
Just a collection of curios and ramblings, rumours and rants.
The moving finger writes, and , having writ, moves on; nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your tears blot out a word of it.
Tr. EDWARD FITZGERALD.