Isabella; Or, The Pot of Basil
X.

John Keats

Settings
ScrollingScrolling

Parting they seem'd to tread upon the air,

Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart

Only to meet again more close, and share

The inward fragrance of each other's heart.

She, to her chamber gone, a ditty fair

Sang, of delicious love and honey'd dart;

He with light steps went up a western hill,

And bade the sun farewell, and joy'd his fill.

This book comes from:m.funovel.com。

Last Next Contents
Bookshelf ADD Settings
Reviews Add a review
Chapter loading