Dee: Difference between revisions
No edit summary |
No edit summary |
||
| (13 intermediate revisions by the same user not shown) | |||
| Line 7: | Line 7: | ||
/* Clear floats after the columns */ | /* Clear floats after the columns */ | ||
.row:after { | |||
content: ""; | content: ""; | ||
display: table; | display: table; | ||
| Line 14: | Line 14: | ||
}} | }} | ||
<div class="column"> | <div class="column"> | ||
<center> | |||
"Teardrops feel like showers | "Teardrops feel like showers | ||
| Line 31: | Line 32: | ||
- Broken Flowers - <b>Danny L. Harle</b> | - Broken Flowers - <b>Danny L. Harle</b> | ||
</center> | |||
</div> | </div> | ||
<div class="column"> | <div class="column"> | ||
"He shew'd me lilies for my hair, | <center> | ||
"How sweet I roam'd from field to field, | |||
And tasted all the summer's pride, | |||
'Till I the prince of love beheld, | |||
Who in the sunny beams did glide! | |||
He shew'd me lilies for my hair, | |||
And blushing roses for my brow; | And blushing roses for my brow; | ||
| Line 60: | Line 72: | ||
- How sweet I roam'd from field to field - <b>William Blake</b> | - How sweet I roam'd from field to field - <b>William Blake</b> | ||
</center> | |||
</div> | </div> | ||
</div> | </div> | ||
<div id=dee""> | <div id=dee""> | ||
{{BasicCharacterPage | {{BasicCharacterPage | ||
| Line 73: | Line 85: | ||
| biography= | | biography= | ||
| rphooks= | | rphooks= | ||
<center> | |||
I | |||
Steal a look. | |||
See how beautiful they are? | |||
An Orchid and a Saint. | |||
An Orchid must be plucked. | |||
A Saint must be martyred. | |||
We all must make sacrifices. | |||
That is why we're here. | |||
But why am I here? | |||
I see, I see. | |||
</center> | |||
| contacts= | | contacts= | ||
Latest revision as of 03:37, 25 August 2021
"Teardrops feel like showers
There's nothing I can't see
Lying awake for hours
Time stands still around me
Teardrops feel like showers
I thought I was free
Lying awake for hours
With just your broken flowers"
- Broken Flowers - Danny L. Harle
"How sweet I roam'd from field to field,
And tasted all the summer's pride,
'Till I the prince of love beheld,
Who in the sunny beams did glide!
He shew'd me lilies for my hair,
And blushing roses for my brow;
He led me through his gardens fair,
Where all his golden pleasures grow.
With sweet May dews my wings were wet,
And Phoebus fir'd my vocal rage;
He caught me in his silken net,
And shut me in his golden cage.
He loves to sit and hear me sing,
Then, laughing, sports and plays with me;
Then stretches out my golden wing,
And mocks my loss of liberty."
- How sweet I roam'd from field to field - William Blake
I
Steal a look.
See how beautiful they are?
An Orchid and a Saint.
An Orchid must be plucked.
A Saint must be martyred.
We all must make sacrifices.
That is why we're here.
But why am I here?
I see, I see.
No logs found!
| Voice of a Songbird |
