I would not trust my heart; — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. — But no — what here we call our life is such, So little to be loved, and thou so much, That I should ill requite thee to constrain Thy unbound spirit into bonds... Poems - Side 446av William Cowper - 1820 - 480 siderUten tilgangsbegrensning
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William Cowper - 2003 - 119 sider
...Would 'st softly speak, and stroke my head and smile) Could those few pleasant hours again appear, 80 Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here?...trust my heart— the dear delight Seems so to be desir'd, perhaps I might. But no— what here we call our life is such, So little to be lov'd, and...