1928. Wylie, was an American poet and novelist, whose novels are delicately wrought and filled with ironic fancy. This little romance begins: When Mr. Hazard was forty years old, he decided to revisit England. Having been out of it for precisely fifteen years, he had half forgotten its climate; his memory was incurably romantic, and through veils of faraway mist he saw the blackthorn more clearly than the mud. Also, it was true that he, who so dearly loved the sun, had been rather too much in the sun of late. Greece had ...
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1928. Wylie, was an American poet and novelist, whose novels are delicately wrought and filled with ironic fancy. This little romance begins: When Mr. Hazard was forty years old, he decided to revisit England. Having been out of it for precisely fifteen years, he had half forgotten its climate; his memory was incurably romantic, and through veils of faraway mist he saw the blackthorn more clearly than the mud. Also, it was true that he, who so dearly loved the sun, had been rather too much in the sun of late. Greece had been fever and chills by turns, and the cave of the chief of Odysseus a very rack for broken bones. See other titles by this author available from Kessinger Publishing.
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