Hans Rustad The daisy follows soft the sun, And when his golden walk is done, Sits shyly at his feet. He, waking, finds the flower near. «Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?» «Because, sir, love is sweet!» We are the flower, Thou the sun! Forgive us, if as days decline, We nearer steal to Thee,– Enamoured of the […]
Bli abonnent eller logg inn – hvis du allerede er abonnent – for å lese denne artikkelen. Pluss-artikler blir frigitt 24 timer etter publisering. Arkiverte artikler er forbeholdt abonnenter.
