Under poof-lined high, peace-blue skies
I hear a dull cry, a rising diminuendo
That does dispoil, due dolefully air,
Wi' a rare uncommon dispairing flair
Now harmony ruptured, wi' rascalry blare
At daft dirging sadness sooOh unfair
I rudely wrought, do duefully bear
M'self up to me feet, all quiverishly—
To sweep down tha hill, ta quiet th' one.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.06 seconds at 2:43pm on Nov 12, 2024 via server WEBX1.