The Garden Of Eros (Oscar Wilde Poems)
It is full summer now, the heart of June; Not yet the sunburnt reapers are astir Upon the upland meadow ...
It is full summer now, the heart of June; Not yet the sunburnt reapers are astir Upon the upland meadow ...
The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the narciss shows its head Nor withers till ...
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