From the wreck of my past, which hath perish'd, Thus much I at least may recall, It hath taught me that which I most cherish'd Deserved to be dearest of all: In the desert a fountain is springing, In the wide waste there still is a tree, And a bird in the solitude singing, Which speaks to my spirit of thee. Lord Byron
User Score: 2047
User Score: 516
User Score: 196
User Score: 44
User Score: 31
User Score: 16
User Score: 12
User Score: 8
User Score: 6
User Score: 5