Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
pos | title |
---|---|
A1 | Irritating Collapse |
A2 | Origin |
B1 | Discernment |
B2 | Machine Elves |