The blossoms drifted at our feet,

The orchard birds sang clear;

The sweetest and the saddest day

It seemed of all the year.

so the next real goal is 50K

Love teh breakout one.

 

 

I think our next goal should be 35 000

For, more to me than birds or flowers,

My playmate left her home.

And took with her the laughing spring,

The music and the bloom.

nice one

She kissed the lips of kith and kin,

She laid her hand in mine:

What more could ask the bashful boy

Who fed her father's kine?

Our next goal should totally be whatever post this is.

 

 

Yay. I win >.>

She left us in the bloom of May:

The constant years told o'er

Their seasons with as sweet May morns,

But she came back no more.

must leave you all for a while, happy spamming!

I walk, with noiseless feet, the round

Of uneventful years;

Still o'er and o'er I sow the spring

And reap the autumn ears.

She lives where all the golden year

Her summer roses blow;

The dusky children of the sun

Before her come and go.

Bye bye...

There haply with her jewelled hands

She smooths her silken gown,--

No more the homespun lap wherein

I shook the walnuts down.

The wild grapes wait us by the brook,

The brown nuts on the hill,

And still the May-day flowers make sweet

The woods of Follymill.

bye smiley

 

yeah. i have no other goals. yay ayla.

The lilies blossom in the pond,

The bird builds in the tree,

The dark pines sing on Ramoth hill

The slow song of the sea.

I wonder if she thinks of them,

And how the old time seems,--

If ever the pines of Ramoth wood

Are sounding in her dreams.

I see her face, I hear her voice;

Does she remember mine?

And what to her is now the boy

Who fed her father's kine?

What cares she that the orioles build

For other eyes than ours,--

That other hands with nuts are filled,

And other laps with flowers?