- A widow bird sate mourning for her lave ,upon a wintry bough ;The frozen wind crept on above,The freezing stream below. There was no leaf upon the forest bare, No flower upon the graund, And little motion in the air Except the mill-weel,s sound. by SHELLEY
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment