Hopes are but the dreams of those that wake.
Hopes are but the dreams of those that wake.
Author: Matthew Prior
For when with beauty we can virtue join We paint the semblance of a form divine.
For when with beauty we can virtue join We paint the semblance of a form divine.
Fantastic tyrant of the amorous heart. How hard thy yoke how cruel thy dart. Those escape your anger who refuse your sway and those are punished most who most obey.
Fantastic tyrant of the amorous heart. How hard thy yoke how cruel thy dart. Those escape your anger who refuse your sway and those are punished most who most obey.