Despite the fact that I've already made an evening offering ["Pebbles in the parlour," below], I still feel compelled to soothe my heart with Herrick and stockings.
I have yet to find better solace for endlessly fervid political discussion or earnest boys hellbent on cementing the tunnel of their vision...than a nicely bound volume of my beloved Robert Herrick.
But I have also yet to find a website that offers much other than encyclopediac annotations or yes, sigh, shameful academic critiques of Herrick. Anyone who would dare deconstruct "Ode to Anthea" should be spanked out of the parlour.
So better, in all events, a small, insistently nonvirtual, chapbook. To be read, earnestly and fervidly, to one's beloved.
As for stockings...like chocolate, they require no words. Once again, and I hate to belabour the point...in Spain and France and Italy one can always find a small, locally owned, shop, just around the corner. If you are elsewhere, there is, of course, La Perla.