Gaze not on swans, in whose soft breast, A full-hatched beauty seems to nest Nor snow, which falling from the sky Hovers in its virginity. — Henry Noel Brailsford Copy Share Image
Swans moulting die, snow melts to tears, Roses do blush and hang their heads — Henry Noel Brailsford Copy Share Image
“The neglected pioneer of one revolution, the honoured victim of another, brave to the point of folly, and as humane as he was brave,… — Henry Noel Brailsford Copy Share Image
Gaze not on swans, in whose soft breast, A full-hatched beauty seems to nest Nor snow, which falling from the sky Hovers in its… — Henry Noel Brailsford Copy Share Image
They are Nietzsche's over-men, these primitive Albanians - something between kings and tigers. — Henry Noel Brailsford Copy Share Image
