What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields or waves or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be; Shadow of annoyance Never came near...
The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One Volume - Página 212
de Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1831 - 607 páginas
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