Explore "A Dirge in Gray" by Edith Nesbit on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Larranagas! Thank you, thank you! / Not a knife. I never use one -- / I've the right thing on my watch-chain / Which some fool or other gave me -- / Takes the end off in a second -- / Sharp as life bites off our pleasures.
See! The soft wreath upward curling, / Gray as mists in leaf-strewn hollows; / Blue as skies in mild October; / Vague, elusive as delight is.