Nightly, as in days of old, I clambered up the mossy scree To sit upon the ledge that reigns Across our hearth in majesty, And as the mist lolled in the glen, Assuming forms of ancient men, I lost all sense of passing time, And to their earthen call did list'n.
| Identifier (URI) | Rank |
|---|---|
| dbkwik:resource/DjXrHK7_GR5Wr-KOGiyWVw== | 5.88129e-14 |