Oscar Wilde- "The Grave of Shelley"
Out in the long grass I am peering moodily into a limpid pool. There are faces in the water and dandies lurking in the shrubbery.
Oh and there's R on the avenue furtively groping some faux-Praxitelian marble. She looks adorable, don't you think?
My locus amoeus is now complete.
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