Poems found: 14
A MELANCHOLY THOUGHT HAD LAID ME LOW
SPEED YE, WARM HOURS, ALONG TH' APPOINTED PATH
THE GARDEN TREES ARE BUSY WITH THE SHOWER
WHEN GENTLE FINGERS CEASE TO TOUCH THE STRING
WRITTEN AT CAUDEBEC IN NORMANDY
MY BOSOM FRIEND, 'TIS LONG SINCE WE HAVE LOOKED