On one she smiled, and he was blest;
She smiles elsewhere — we make a din!
But 'twas not love which heaved her breast,
Fair child! — it was the bliss within.
Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical (1917)
On one she smiled, and he was blest;
She smiles elsewhere — we make a din!
But 'twas not love which heaved her breast,
Fair child! — it was the bliss within.
Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical (1917)