April, T.S. Eliot wrote, "is the cruellest month, breeding/ Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing/ Memory out of desire, stirring/ Dull roots with spring rain." Emerson, not to be outdone, chimed in, "April cold with dripping rain...." And...
April, T.S. Eliot wrote, "is the cruellest month, breeding/ Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing/ Memory out of desire, stirring/ Dull roots with spring rain." Emerson, not to be outdone, chimed in, "April cold with dripping rain...." And...
April, T.S. Eliot wrote, "is...