All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower....
Beauties of the Modern Poets: In Selections from the Works of Byron, Moore ... - Side 124
1826 - 392 sider
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