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Rembrandt & Saskia
She was just a young thin pale soft shy slim slip of a thing then sauntering, by silvamoonlake and he was a heavy trudging lurching lieabroad of a Curraghman, making his hay for whose sun to shine on, as tough as the oaktrees (peats be with them!) used to rustle that time down by the dykes of killing Kildare, for forstfellfoss with a plash across her. FW 202 when May moon she shines and they twit twinkle all the night, combing the comet's tail up right and shooting popguns at the stars FW 65 Well, you know or don't you kennet or haven't I told you every telling has a taling and that's the he and the she of it. FW 213