Thoughts of Phena
Over the rivers, and through the singing clouds, Mirror dells that span and break not clean— Why let these trees feed your rests and shows, Where life stands faced with gold and green!
- Thomas Hardy
Thoughts of Phena
Over the rivers, and through the singing clouds, Mirror dells that span and break not clean— Why let these trees feed your rests and shows, Where life stands faced with gold and green!