Go, LOVELY rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide,...
Red-letter Poems by English Men and Women - Стр. 65
1885 - Страниц: 648
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