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Travel Book Store
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
Higher still and higher
From the earth thou s Shelley, Percy Bysshe
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Travel Book Store > Books beginning with letter I
 | I am not sick I don't need help |
| Published: 10 May, 2007 |
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As of: January 09th, 2009 03:40:42 PM
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| Author: Xavier Amador |
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I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-grey,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled vinestems scored the sky
Like strings from broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Hardy, Thomas
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