The lilacs wither in the Carolinas.
Already the butterflies flutter above the cabins.
Already the new-born children interpret love
In the voices of mothers.
Timeless mothers,
How is it that your aspic *******
For once vent honey?
The pine-tree sweetens my body
The white iris beautifies me.
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The lilacs wither in the Carolinas.
Already the butterflies flutter above the cabins.
Already the new-born children interpret love
In the voices of mothers.
Timeless mothers,
How is it that your aspic *******
For once vent honey?
The pine-tree sweetens my body
The white iris beautifies me.
1879 - 1955/Male/American