In June I Brought Her Roses, And She Cupt One Slim Bud In Her Hand And Cherisht It, And Put It To Her Mouth. Rose And She Supt Each Other'S Sweetness; But The Flower Was Lit By Her Kind Eyes, And Glowed. Then In Her Breast She Laid It Blushing, Warm And Doubly Blest.
No favourite Poem yet! Login To View And Add to Favourites