z

Young Writers Society


404: Not Found

Oops! This link might be corrupted.
You should check for any Miss Spellings.
While you ponder this, enjoy a poem:


Hymn VII, To the Rose (1599)
by Sir John Davies

Eye of the Garden, Queene of flowres,
Love’s cup wherein he nectar powres,
Ingendered first of nectar;
Sweet nurse-child of the Spring’s young howres,
And Beautie’s faire character.

Best jewell that the Earth doth weare,
Even when the brave young sunne draws neare,
To her hot Love pretending
Himselfe likewise like forme doth beare,
At rising and descending.

Rose of the Queene of Love belov’d;
England’s great Kings divinely mov’d,
Gave Roses in their banner;
It shewed that Beautie’s Rose indeed,
Now in this age should them succeed,
And raigne in more sweet manner.


"It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn't feel like a giant. I felt very, very small."
— Neil Armstrong