don't fly too close to the sun," Tess Calls. "you'll burn the tips of your wings. Stay right with me. i'll keep you safe.
Thus, Marlowe posed the silent question: could aspiring Icarus be happy with a toilsome life on land managing a plough with plodding oxen having once tasted the weightless bliss of flight?
How oft the warmth of the sun aboveMakes a pretty young girl dream of love.
Laments of an IcarusThe paramours of courtesansAre well and satisfied, content.But as for me my limbs are rent Because I clasped the clouds as mine.I owe it to the peerless starsWhich flame in the rem...