Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide,...
A Dictionary of Quotations from the English Poets - Página 524
por Henry George Bohn - 1881 - 715 páginas
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