My stomach being empty as your hat.
R. Browning (Fra Lippo Lippi).
The “cheekiest” line I know.
TO THE MOON
The wind is shrill on the hills, and the plover
Wheels up and down with a windy scream;
The birch has loosen’d her bright locks over
The nut-brown pools of the mountain stream:
Yet here I linger in London City,