Of the end of eternity

Made glorious summer by this sun of York,
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.” ©
Ураааааааааааааааааааааа..! Перманентка..! Перманентка!! :)
Сложно поверить - конец жизненного квеста длиною в восемь лет.
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