A horse of greater speed, nor yet a righter hound, Not any where twixt Kent and Calidon is found. Nor yet the levell South can shewe a smoother Race, Whereas the ballow Nag out-strips the winds in chase;

II Scarsely had Phoebus in the glooming East 10 Yet harnessed his firie-footed teeme, Ne reard above the earth his flaming creast; When the last deadly smoke aloft did steeme That signe of last outbreathed life did seeme Unto the watchman on the castle wall, 15 Who thereby dead that balefull Beast did deeme, And to his Lord and Ladie lowd gan call, To tell how he had seene the Dragons fatall fall.

[…] and the publication of the very interesting tale from which it is taken, we have been so beghosted both in prose and verse, […]

It is by great effort that I have now reached the point where I am, and it is because I am a plastician, and a very sensitive person by the way, and also because I believe in the necessity of the Aesthetics of Period, that I have the feeling of being emgaged at this time, and able to produce architectrual developments within which everything fits -- from the inside to the outside, ...