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Poems by John Keats
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- b7932192132har citeretfor 4 år siden
heath of life presents no bloom; Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head. - b7932192132har citeretfor 4 år sidenWhen by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; When no fair dreams before my "mind's eye" flit, And the bare
- Alexandra Skitiovahar citeretfor 2 år siden
Bright as the humming-bird's green diadem, When it flutters in sun-beams that shine through a fountain?
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