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To——
Percy Bysshe shelley
One word is too often profaned
For me to profaned it
One feeling too falsely disdain'd
For thee to disdain it
One holp is too like despair
For prudence to smother
And pity from thee more dear
Than that from another
I can give not what men call love
But wilt thou accept not
The worship the heart lifts above
And the heavens reject not
The desire of the moth for the star
of the night for the morrow
The devotion to something afar
From the sphere of our sorrow ?
[此贴子已经被作者于2004-11-13 15:36:49编辑过]
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[b]欢迎加入死死团~[/b]
发表于 2004-11-13 23:23:09
