Reading Chaucer Is Like Brushing

If We See Light At The End Of The Tunnel, It's The Light Of The Oncoming Train.

The Green Grass Floweth Like A Stream Into The Oceans's Blue.

What Means This Glory Round Our Feet, The Magi Mused, "more Bright Than Morn!" And Voices Chanted Clear And Sweet, "to-day The Prince Of Peace Is Born.

The Pine Is The Mother Of Legends.

Compromise Makes A Good Umbrella, But A Poor Roof.