The sounding of the cataract
Haunted him like a passion: the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
Their colours and their forms, were then to him
An appetite; a feeling, and a love,
That had no need of a remoter charm,
By thought supplied, or any interest
Unborrow'd from the eye.
Adapted from Mark Shelly's Frankenstein
1 more day to Doomsday...
That's all for now. Ciao, xoxo :)
