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Painting - Mixed Mediums Painting
In youth from rock to rock I went
From hill to hill, in discontent
Of pleasure high and turbulent,
Most pleas'd when most uneasy;
But now my own delights I make,
My thirst at every rill can slake,
And gladly Nature's love partake
Of thee, sweet Daisy!
When soothed a while by milder airs,
Thee Winter in the garland wears
That thinly shades his few grey hairs;
Spring cannot shun thee;
Whole summer fields are thine by right;
And Autumn, melancholy Wight!
Doth in thy crimson head delight
When rains are on thee.
From The Poem "To The Daisy"
by William Wordsworth
August 3rd, 2013
Viewed 13,612 Times - Last Visitor from New Delhi, 07 - India on 01/31/2015 at 12:51 AM
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