The dawn is smiling on the dew that covers The tearful roses; lo, the little lovers That kiss the buds, and all the flutterings In jasmine bloom, and privet, of white wings, That go and come, and fly, and peep and hide, With muffled music, murmured far and wide. Ah, the Spring time, when we think of all the lays That dreamy lovers send to dreamy mays, Of the fond hearts within a billet bound, Of all the soft silk paper that pens wound, The messages that love that mortals write Filled with intoxication of delight, Written in April and before the May time Shredded and flown, playthings for the wind's playtime, We dream that all white butterflies above, We seek through clouds or water souls to love, And leave their ladt mistress in despair, To flit to flowers, as kinder and more flair, Are but torn love-letters, that through the skies Flutter, and float, and change to butterflies.
Does this project or one of it's images contain pornography, profanity, or other illegal or offensive material? If so, please report it and our moderators will come by and clean it up in a flash.
September 03, 2009
September 03, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009
September 02, 2009