Our faith to one love- and one moon adore-
The birth-place of young Beauty had no more.
Our faith to one love- and one moon adore-
The birth-place of young Beauty had no more.
In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not love the less-
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that towered around.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories