Still ailing, Wind? Wilt be appeased or no?

The moment eternal - just that and no more - When ecstasy's utmost we clutch at the core While cheeks burn, arms open, eyes shut, and lips meet!

We don't have an ailing industry.

Records are always going to be broken; I'm sure someone wanted to see him catch Wilt.

There is no excuse for a well-dressed gent to wilt in the warm months.

No wind, no waves