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?
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...
How oft the warmth of the sun aboveMakes a pretty young girl dream of love.