A Widow Bird Sate Mourning For Her Love
A widow bird sate mourning for her Love
Upon a wintry bough;
The frozen wind crept on above,
The freezing stream below.
There was no leaf upon the forest bare,
No flower upon the ground,
And little motion in the air
Except the mill-wheel's sound.
Old London Bridge - Only for Poets
Connecting the Poets who digging heart of me Still death - Sabarnasri
HEARTY WELCOME & HAVE A NICE STAY
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