Direktlänk till inlägg 17 december 2013
I feel almost at times as i have felt
In happy childhood; pets and flowers and trees and brooks,
Which do remember me of where i dwelt
Ere my young mind was sacrified to books.
Come as of yore upon me, and can melt
My heart with recognition of their looks;
And even at moments i could think i know
Some living things to love - but none like you.
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