Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air; Whoever looks round sees Eternity there. Votes: 14
Crowded places, I shunned them as noises too rude / And flew to the silence of sweet solitude. Votes: 5
Language has not the power to speak what love indites: The soul lies buried in the ink that writes. Votes: 0
I am the self-consumer of my woes, Votes: 0
Wildness is my suiting scene. Votes: 0