In sooth I know not why I am so sad.
It wearies me; you say it wearies you -
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn;
And such a want-wit sadness makes of me
That I have much ado to know myself.
2010/08/13 19:06
Melancholic.