Quote:
Originally Posted by BookishDreamer
With every step I take, my shoes squeak. Sounds like I'm walking on mice!
Dreamer
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Which doesn't quite remind me of Sir John Suckling's 17th century poem:
Quote:
Her feet beneath her petticoat
Like little mice stole in and out.
As if they feared the light;
But oh, she dances such a way!
No sun upon an Easter-day
Is half so fine a sight.
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(Ballad upon a Wedding)