Couching At The Door

Couching at the Doorthe wages of sin are sometimes worse than deathThe First Inkling which Augustine Marchant had of the matter was on one fine summer morning about three weeks after his visit to Prague, that is to say, in June, 1898. He was reclining, as his custom was when writing his poetry, on the very comfortable sofa in his library at Abbot's Medding, near the French windows, one of which was open to the garden. Pausing for inspiration -- he was nearly at the end of his poem, Salutation to...