VI.

Ah me, do you remember still

The garden where we strolled together,

The empty groves, the little hill

Starred o’er with pale Italian heather?

And you to me said never a word,

Nor I a single word to you.

And yet how sweet a thing was heard,

Resolved, abandoned, by us two!

Lyrics selected from the works of A. Mary F. Robinson · 第 39 / 81 题