There is a looker-on who sits behind my eyes. It seems he has seen things in ages and worlds beyond memory`s shore, and those forgotten sights glisten on the grass and shiver on the leaves. He has seen under new veils the face of the one beloved, in twilight hours of many a nameless star. Therefore his sky seems to ache with the pain of countless meetings and partings, and a longing pervades this spring breeze, -the longing that is full of the whisper of ages without beginning.SourceThe script ran 0.006 seconds.
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