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Bir çeviri sorunu bildirin
Even in the moment of our earliest kiss,
When sighed the straitened bud into the flower,
Sat the dry seed of most unwelcome this;
And that I knew, though not the day and hour.
Too season-wise am I, being country-bred,
To tilt at autumn or defy the frost:
Snuffing the chill even as my fathers did,
I say with them, "What's out tonight is lost."
I only hoped, with the mild hope of all
Who watch the leaf take shape upon the tree,
A fairer summer and
👽 -- 🐛 -- 👹 -- 🎁 -- 🚘 -- 💙 -- ⚡ -- 💄 -- 🔋 -- 🍆 -- 💃 -- 📀 -- 🎄 -- 🐟 -- 🎁