Seasons of the Heart
The tender human heart has its seasons:
Its summer’s joy, but sorrows when it snows.
When silence comes, and peace surrounds,
Its autumn falls, then solitude, its golden spring!
Composed by V on 30th November, 2009 04:57
The tender human heart has its seasons:
Its summer’s joy, but sorrows when it snows.
When silence comes, and peace surrounds,
Its autumn falls, then solitude, its golden spring!
Composed by V on 30th November, 2009 04:57
Every man drowned in deep contemplation Perceives the world as part his own creation. Nothing can outrun the clock’s relentless tick, Nor life control what death shall next pick But wit applied can soon buy us an hour To say a prayer, or bequeath our power, And embrace the bright light without a fight. Rejoice,…
The select company that I would wish for today — in addition to a generous number of very attractive lecherous ladies –in celebration as my chronological age reaches a score, is not of the few distinguished personages that I have come to cherish in society (my family and friends), but it is of such votaries…