Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.

Godt sagt! (3) Varsle Svar

Sist sett

Ellen E. MartolKjersti SJon Torger Hetland SalteEivind  VaksvikTine SundalIngeborg GReadninggirl30Trude Jensenmay britt FagertveitKirsten LundEmil ChristiansenVibekeHarald KFarfalleLailaLars Johann MiljeEirin EftevandrubbelDagfinn JakobsenMette-MLene AndresenNora KjærstadTom-Erik FallamarithcRonnyRandiAKetilRisRosOgKlagingHanneGodemineAjiniakraPi_MesonTor-Arne JensenHilde H HelsethIngvild RosslundPiippokattaBeathe SolbergDolly DuckgretemorAstrid Terese Bjorland Skjeggerud