Look at those knobby yellow knees, that striped beak! Why is it that the thought of gulls makes writers and poets so melancholy?
| THE wild bee reels from bough to bough | |
| With his furry coat and his gauzy wing. | |
| Now in a lily-cup, and now | |
| Setting a jacinth bell a-swing, | |
| In his wandering; | |
| Sit closer love: it was here I trow | |
| I made that vow, | |
| |
| Swore that two lives should be like one | |
| As long as the sea-gull loved the sea, | |
| As long as the sunflower sought the sun,— | |
| It shall be, I said, for eternity | |
| ’Twixt you and me! | |
| Dear friend, those times are over and done, | |
| Love’s web is spun. ---Oscar Wilde | |
| |
No comments:
Post a Comment