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, | |
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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 | |
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