In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide earth a spot
The which I could not love the less --
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that tower'd around.
Edgar Allan Poe
3/29/2012 9:28 AM
wirklich ganz toller blog. kompliment!
3/29/2012 9:48 AM
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