Why am I sorry, Chloe? Because the moon is far: And who am I to be straitened in a little earthly star? Because thy face is fair? And what if it had not been, The fairest face of all is the face I have not seen. Because the land is cold, and however I scheme and plot, I cannot find a ferry to the land where I am not. Because thy lips are red and thy breasts upbraid the snow? (There is neither white nor red in the pleasance where I go.) Because thy lips grow pale and thy breasts grow dun and fall? I go where the wind blows, Chloe, and am not sorry at all.SourceThe script ran 0.002 seconds.
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