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4 changes: 2 additions & 2 deletions Easter-1916-by-William-Butler-Yeats/index.html
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<!DOCTYPE html><html><head><title>Easter, 1916</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><style>body{margin:0;padding:8em 1em;background:#ebe8df;color:#444;font:16px Georgia;line-height:1.4}h1,h2,h3{color:#e76e66;margin:0;padding:0;text-wrap:balance}h1{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;text-align:center;font-size:4.5em;padding:.5em 0 1em;line-height:1;font-style:italic;display:block}h2{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;font-size:1.5em;line-height:1.4;padding:0;text-wrap:balance;text-align:left;white-space:pre-wrap}h3{padding:0;font-size:1.2em;font-variant:small-caps;text-transform:lowercase;text-align:left}ul{display:inline-block;text-align:left;list-style:none;padding:0;margin:0}a{display:inline-block;text-decoration:none;color:inherit;border-bottom:2px solid #ebe8df;transition:border-color .1s ease-in;margin:0 0 .5em;-webkit-tap-highlight-color:transparent}a+a{margin-left:3em}a:active,a:focus,a:hover{border-bottom-color:#e76e66}span{display:inline-block}article{max-width:700px}section{padding:4em 0 4em;white-space:pre-wrap;text-align:left;text-wrap:pretty}nav{font-variant:small-caps;text-align:left;font-size:1em}@media(min-width:560px){body{display:flex;justify-content:center;align-items:center;flex-direction:column;font-size:18px}}</style></head><body><article><h2>Easter, 1916</h2><h3>by William Butler Yeats</h3><section>I have met them at close of day
<!DOCTYPE html><html><head><title>Easter, 1916</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><link rel="stylesheet" href="../styles.min.css"><link rel="prefetch" href="../For-Whom-The-Bell-Tolls-by-John-Donne/"><link rel="prefetch" href=".."><link rel="prefetch" href="../from-The-Life-of-King-Henry-the-Fifth/"></head><body><article><h2>Easter, 1916</h2><h3>by William Butler Yeats</h3><section>I have met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
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Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
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4 changes: 2 additions & 2 deletions For-Whom-The-Bell-Tolls-by-John-Donne/index.html
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<!DOCTYPE html><html><head><title>For Whom
The Bell Tolls</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><style>body{margin:0;padding:8em 1em;background:#ebe8df;color:#444;font:16px Georgia;line-height:1.4}h1,h2,h3{color:#e76e66;margin:0;padding:0;text-wrap:balance}h1{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;text-align:center;font-size:4.5em;padding:.5em 0 1em;line-height:1;font-style:italic;display:block}h2{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;font-size:1.5em;line-height:1.4;padding:0;text-wrap:balance;text-align:left;white-space:pre-wrap}h3{padding:0;font-size:1.2em;font-variant:small-caps;text-transform:lowercase;text-align:left}ul{display:inline-block;text-align:left;list-style:none;padding:0;margin:0}a{display:inline-block;text-decoration:none;color:inherit;border-bottom:2px solid #ebe8df;transition:border-color .1s ease-in;margin:0 0 .5em;-webkit-tap-highlight-color:transparent}a+a{margin-left:3em}a:active,a:focus,a:hover{border-bottom-color:#e76e66}span{display:inline-block}article{max-width:700px}section{padding:4em 0 4em;white-space:pre-wrap;text-align:left;text-wrap:pretty}nav{font-variant:small-caps;text-align:left;font-size:1em}@media(min-width:560px){body{display:flex;justify-content:center;align-items:center;flex-direction:column;font-size:18px}}</style></head><body><article><h2>For Whom
The Bell Tolls</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><link rel="stylesheet" href="../styles.min.css"><link rel="prefetch" href="../Funeral-Blues-by-W-H-Auden/"><link rel="prefetch" href=".."><link rel="prefetch" href="../Easter-1916-by-William-Butler-Yeats/"></head><body><article><h2>For Whom
The Bell Tolls</h2><h3>by John Donne</h3><section>No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe;
every man is a peece of the Continent,
a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed
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in Mankinde; And therefore never send
to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
</section><nav><a href="../Easter-1916-by-William-Butler-Yeats">prev</a><a href="..">menu</a><a href="../Funeral-Blues-by-W-H-Auden">next</a></nav></article></body></html>
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4 changes: 2 additions & 2 deletions Funeral-Blues-by-W-H-Auden/index.html
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<!DOCTYPE html><html><head><title>Funeral Blues</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><style>body{margin:0;padding:8em 1em;background:#ebe8df;color:#444;font:16px Georgia;line-height:1.4}h1,h2,h3{color:#e76e66;margin:0;padding:0;text-wrap:balance}h1{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;text-align:center;font-size:4.5em;padding:.5em 0 1em;line-height:1;font-style:italic;display:block}h2{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;font-size:1.5em;line-height:1.4;padding:0;text-wrap:balance;text-align:left;white-space:pre-wrap}h3{padding:0;font-size:1.2em;font-variant:small-caps;text-transform:lowercase;text-align:left}ul{display:inline-block;text-align:left;list-style:none;padding:0;margin:0}a{display:inline-block;text-decoration:none;color:inherit;border-bottom:2px solid #ebe8df;transition:border-color .1s ease-in;margin:0 0 .5em;-webkit-tap-highlight-color:transparent}a+a{margin-left:3em}a:active,a:focus,a:hover{border-bottom-color:#e76e66}span{display:inline-block}article{max-width:700px}section{padding:4em 0 4em;white-space:pre-wrap;text-align:left;text-wrap:pretty}nav{font-variant:small-caps;text-align:left;font-size:1em}@media(min-width:560px){body{display:flex;justify-content:center;align-items:center;flex-direction:column;font-size:18px}}</style></head><body><article><h2>Funeral Blues</h2><h3>by W. H. Auden</h3><section>Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
<!DOCTYPE html><html><head><title>Funeral Blues</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><link rel="stylesheet" href="../styles.min.css"><link rel="prefetch" href="../He-Wishes-For-The-Cloths-Of-Heaven-by-William-Butler-Yeats/"><link rel="prefetch" href=".."><link rel="prefetch" href="../For-Whom-The-Bell-Tolls-by-John-Donne/"></head><body><article><h2>Funeral Blues</h2><h3>by W. H. Auden</h3><section>Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
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Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
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4 changes: 2 additions & 2 deletions He-Wishes-For-The-Cloths-Of-Heaven-by-William-Butler-Yeats/index.html
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<!DOCTYPE html><html><head><title>He Wishes For
The Cloths Of Heaven</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><style>body{margin:0;padding:8em 1em;background:#ebe8df;color:#444;font:16px Georgia;line-height:1.4}h1,h2,h3{color:#e76e66;margin:0;padding:0;text-wrap:balance}h1{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;text-align:center;font-size:4.5em;padding:.5em 0 1em;line-height:1;font-style:italic;display:block}h2{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;font-size:1.5em;line-height:1.4;padding:0;text-wrap:balance;text-align:left;white-space:pre-wrap}h3{padding:0;font-size:1.2em;font-variant:small-caps;text-transform:lowercase;text-align:left}ul{display:inline-block;text-align:left;list-style:none;padding:0;margin:0}a{display:inline-block;text-decoration:none;color:inherit;border-bottom:2px solid #ebe8df;transition:border-color .1s ease-in;margin:0 0 .5em;-webkit-tap-highlight-color:transparent}a+a{margin-left:3em}a:active,a:focus,a:hover{border-bottom-color:#e76e66}span{display:inline-block}article{max-width:700px}section{padding:4em 0 4em;white-space:pre-wrap;text-align:left;text-wrap:pretty}nav{font-variant:small-caps;text-align:left;font-size:1em}@media(min-width:560px){body{display:flex;justify-content:center;align-items:center;flex-direction:column;font-size:18px}}</style></head><body><article><h2>He Wishes For
The Cloths Of Heaven</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><link rel="stylesheet" href="../styles.min.css"><link rel="prefetch" href="../In-a-Station-of-the-Metro-by-Ezra-Pound/"><link rel="prefetch" href=".."><link rel="prefetch" href="../Funeral-Blues-by-W-H-Auden/"></head><body><article><h2>He Wishes For
The Cloths Of Heaven</h2><h3>by William Butler Yeats</h3><section>Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
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But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
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4 changes: 2 additions & 2 deletions In-a-Station-of-the-Metro-by-Ezra-Pound/index.html
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<!DOCTYPE html><html><head><title>In a Station of the Metro</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><style>body{margin:0;padding:8em 1em;background:#ebe8df;color:#444;font:16px Georgia;line-height:1.4}h1,h2,h3{color:#e76e66;margin:0;padding:0;text-wrap:balance}h1{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;text-align:center;font-size:4.5em;padding:.5em 0 1em;line-height:1;font-style:italic;display:block}h2{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;font-size:1.5em;line-height:1.4;padding:0;text-wrap:balance;text-align:left;white-space:pre-wrap}h3{padding:0;font-size:1.2em;font-variant:small-caps;text-transform:lowercase;text-align:left}ul{display:inline-block;text-align:left;list-style:none;padding:0;margin:0}a{display:inline-block;text-decoration:none;color:inherit;border-bottom:2px solid #ebe8df;transition:border-color .1s ease-in;margin:0 0 .5em;-webkit-tap-highlight-color:transparent}a+a{margin-left:3em}a:active,a:focus,a:hover{border-bottom-color:#e76e66}span{display:inline-block}article{max-width:700px}section{padding:4em 0 4em;white-space:pre-wrap;text-align:left;text-wrap:pretty}nav{font-variant:small-caps;text-align:left;font-size:1em}@media(min-width:560px){body{display:flex;justify-content:center;align-items:center;flex-direction:column;font-size:18px}}</style></head><body><article><h2>In a Station of the Metro</h2><h3>by Ezra Pound</h3><section>The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
<!DOCTYPE html><html><head><title>In a Station of the Metro</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><link rel="stylesheet" href="../styles.min.css"><link rel="prefetch" href="../Invictus-by-William-Ernest-Henley/"><link rel="prefetch" href=".."><link rel="prefetch" href="../He-Wishes-For-The-Cloths-Of-Heaven-by-William-Butler-Yeats/"></head><body><article><h2>In a Station of the Metro</h2><h3>by Ezra Pound</h3><section>The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
</section><nav><a href="../He-Wishes-For-The-Cloths-Of-Heaven-by-William-Butler-Yeats">prev</a><a href="..">menu</a><a href="../Invictus-by-William-Ernest-Henley">next</a></nav></article></body></html>
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4 changes: 2 additions & 2 deletions Invictus-by-William-Ernest-Henley/index.html
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<!DOCTYPE html><html><head><title>Invictus</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><style>body{margin:0;padding:8em 1em;background:#ebe8df;color:#444;font:16px Georgia;line-height:1.4}h1,h2,h3{color:#e76e66;margin:0;padding:0;text-wrap:balance}h1{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;text-align:center;font-size:4.5em;padding:.5em 0 1em;line-height:1;font-style:italic;display:block}h2{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;font-size:1.5em;line-height:1.4;padding:0;text-wrap:balance;text-align:left;white-space:pre-wrap}h3{padding:0;font-size:1.2em;font-variant:small-caps;text-transform:lowercase;text-align:left}ul{display:inline-block;text-align:left;list-style:none;padding:0;margin:0}a{display:inline-block;text-decoration:none;color:inherit;border-bottom:2px solid #ebe8df;transition:border-color .1s ease-in;margin:0 0 .5em;-webkit-tap-highlight-color:transparent}a+a{margin-left:3em}a:active,a:focus,a:hover{border-bottom-color:#e76e66}span{display:inline-block}article{max-width:700px}section{padding:4em 0 4em;white-space:pre-wrap;text-align:left;text-wrap:pretty}nav{font-variant:small-caps;text-align:left;font-size:1em}@media(min-width:560px){body{display:flex;justify-content:center;align-items:center;flex-direction:column;font-size:18px}}</style></head><body><article><h2>Invictus</h2><h3>by William Ernest Henley</h3><section>Out of the night that covers me,
<!DOCTYPE html><html><head><title>Invictus</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><link rel="stylesheet" href="../styles.min.css"><link rel="prefetch" href="../Leda-And-The-Swan-by-William-Butler-Yeats/"><link rel="prefetch" href=".."><link rel="prefetch" href="../In-a-Station-of-the-Metro-by-Ezra-Pound/"></head><body><article><h2>Invictus</h2><h3>by William Ernest Henley</h3><section>Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
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How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
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4 changes: 2 additions & 2 deletions Leda-And-The-Swan-by-William-Butler-Yeats/index.html
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<!DOCTYPE html><html><head><title>Leda And The Swan</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><style>body{margin:0;padding:8em 1em;background:#ebe8df;color:#444;font:16px Georgia;line-height:1.4}h1,h2,h3{color:#e76e66;margin:0;padding:0;text-wrap:balance}h1{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;text-align:center;font-size:4.5em;padding:.5em 0 1em;line-height:1;font-style:italic;display:block}h2{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;font-size:1.5em;line-height:1.4;padding:0;text-wrap:balance;text-align:left;white-space:pre-wrap}h3{padding:0;font-size:1.2em;font-variant:small-caps;text-transform:lowercase;text-align:left}ul{display:inline-block;text-align:left;list-style:none;padding:0;margin:0}a{display:inline-block;text-decoration:none;color:inherit;border-bottom:2px solid #ebe8df;transition:border-color .1s ease-in;margin:0 0 .5em;-webkit-tap-highlight-color:transparent}a+a{margin-left:3em}a:active,a:focus,a:hover{border-bottom-color:#e76e66}span{display:inline-block}article{max-width:700px}section{padding:4em 0 4em;white-space:pre-wrap;text-align:left;text-wrap:pretty}nav{font-variant:small-caps;text-align:left;font-size:1em}@media(min-width:560px){body{display:flex;justify-content:center;align-items:center;flex-direction:column;font-size:18px}}</style></head><body><article><h2>Leda And The Swan</h2><h3>by William Butler Yeats</h3><section>A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
<!DOCTYPE html><html><head><title>Leda And The Swan</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><link rel="stylesheet" href="../styles.min.css"><link rel="prefetch" href="../Mending-Wall-by-Robert-Frost/"><link rel="prefetch" href=".."><link rel="prefetch" href="../Invictus-by-William-Ernest-Henley/"></head><body><article><h2>Leda And The Swan</h2><h3>by William Butler Yeats</h3><section>A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
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So mastered by the brute blood of the air,
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?
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<!DOCTYPE html><html><head><title>Mending Wall</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><style>body{margin:0;padding:8em 1em;background:#ebe8df;color:#444;font:16px Georgia;line-height:1.4}h1,h2,h3{color:#e76e66;margin:0;padding:0;text-wrap:balance}h1{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;text-align:center;font-size:4.5em;padding:.5em 0 1em;line-height:1;font-style:italic;display:block}h2{font-family:Zapfino,Georgia;font-size:1.5em;line-height:1.4;padding:0;text-wrap:balance;text-align:left;white-space:pre-wrap}h3{padding:0;font-size:1.2em;font-variant:small-caps;text-transform:lowercase;text-align:left}ul{display:inline-block;text-align:left;list-style:none;padding:0;margin:0}a{display:inline-block;text-decoration:none;color:inherit;border-bottom:2px solid #ebe8df;transition:border-color .1s ease-in;margin:0 0 .5em;-webkit-tap-highlight-color:transparent}a+a{margin-left:3em}a:active,a:focus,a:hover{border-bottom-color:#e76e66}span{display:inline-block}article{max-width:700px}section{padding:4em 0 4em;white-space:pre-wrap;text-align:left;text-wrap:pretty}nav{font-variant:small-caps;text-align:left;font-size:1em}@media(min-width:560px){body{display:flex;justify-content:center;align-items:center;flex-direction:column;font-size:18px}}</style></head><body><article><h2>Mending Wall</h2><h3>by Robert Frost</h3><section>Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
<!DOCTYPE html><html><head><title>Mending Wall</title><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"><link rel="stylesheet" href="../styles.min.css"><link rel="prefetch" href="../Ozymandias-by-Percy-Bysshe-Shelley/"><link rel="prefetch" href=".."><link rel="prefetch" href="../Leda-And-The-Swan-by-William-Butler-Yeats/"></head><body><article><h2>Mending Wall</h2><h3>by Robert Frost</h3><section>Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
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He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."
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