When on a summer’s morn I wake, And open my two eyes, Out to the clear, born-singing rills My bird-like spirit flies. […] And when Time strikes the hour for sleep, […]
Read MoreWhen on a summer’s morn I wake, And open my two eyes, Out to the clear, born-singing rills My bird-like spirit flies. […] And when Time strikes the hour for sleep, […]
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