Poetry · Rhythm
Rhythm
Oh, my fancy teems with a world of dreams—
They revolve in a glittering fire,
How they twirl and go with the tunes that flow
On the breath of my soul-strung lyre.
Oh, my fancy teems with a world of dreams—
They revolve in a glittering fire,
How they twirl and go with the tunes that flow
On the breath of my soul-strung lyre.
本文档使用 WanXiangYunDang 构建