Wednesday, February 03, 2010

Filler post #.. oh who the fuck knows..

The word o' the day is:

aubade: a song greeting the dawn..

isn't that lovely. *gets all dewy eyed and stuff*

He was usually still awake when the birds began to warble their aubade.
-- Christopher Buckley, "What was Robert Benchley?", National Review, June 16, 1997

And there he lingered till the crowing cock...
Sang his aubade with lusty voice and clear.
-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Emma and Eginhard

Gwynn was up the back, playing a soft aubade on the piano that Feni had installed years ago when business was brisker and he could afford to pay entertainers.
-- K.J. Bishop, The Etched City
That's all.

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