|
John Clare
First Love
I ne'er was struck before that hour My face turned pale as deadly pale, And then my blood rushed up to my face Are flowers the winter's choice?
|
Love is, above all, the gift of oneself. - Jean Anouilh, When I am sad and
weary. When I think all hope has gone. Those have most power to hurt us that we love. - Francis Beaumont |
|
About us General queries and emails to |
Copyright © Paul Ward 2000 - 2012 |