A summer isle, one over which the wind
Hath ever pass'd in melody,— such airs
As are born in the rose's breast, and die
Like singing on the waters.


The London Literary Gazette


A summer isle, one over which the wind Hath ever pass'd in melody,— such airs As are born in the rose's breast, and die Like singing on the waters.

A summer isle, one over which the wind Hath ever pass'd in melody,— such airs As are born in the rose's breast, and die Like singing on the waters.

A summer isle, one over which the wind Hath ever pass'd in melody,— such airs As are born in the rose's breast, and die Like singing on the waters.

A summer isle, one over which the wind Hath ever pass'd in melody,— such airs As are born in the rose's breast, and die Like singing on the waters.