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The formula for water is H2O. Is the formula for an ice cube H2O squared?
The formula for water is H2O. Is the formula for an ice cube H2O squared?
With true friends . . . even water drunk together is sweet enough.
With true friends . . . even water drunk together is sweet enough.
The sky broke like an egg into full sunset and the water caught fire.
The sky broke like an egg into full sunset and the water caught fire.
You could not step twice into the same rivers; for other waters are ever flowing on to you.
You could not step twice into the same rivers; for other waters are ever flowing on to you.
The rising world of waters dark and deep.
The rising world of waters dark and deep.
Don't you realize that the sea is the home of water? All water is off on a journey unless it's read more
Don't you realize that the sea is the home of water? All water is off on a journey unless it's in the sea, and it's homesick, and bound to make its way home someday
It is wretched business to be digging a well just as thirst is
mastering you.
[Lat., Miserum est read more
It is wretched business to be digging a well just as thirst is
mastering you.
[Lat., Miserum est opus,
Igitur demum fodere puteum, ubi sitis fauces tedet.]
O Lord! methought what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears!
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O Lord! methought what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears!
What sights of ugly death within mine eyes!
Methoughts I saw a thousand fearful wracks;
A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
All scatt'red in the bottom of the sea:
Some lay in dead men's skulls, and in the holes
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept
(As 'twere in scorn of eyes) reflecting gems,
That wooed the slimy bottom of the deep
And mocked the dead bones that lay scatt'red by.
How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view.
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How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view.
. . . .
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket, which hung in the well.