Love is that orbit of the restless soulWhose circle grazes the confines of space,Bounding within the limits of its raceUtmost extremes.
Love is that orbit of the restless soulWhose circle grazes the confines of space,Bounding within the limits of its raceUtmost extremes. - George Henry Boker
- George Henry Boker
Fold him in his country's stars. Roll the drum and fire the volley! What to him are all our wars, What but death bemocking folly? - George Henry Boker
Fold him in his country's stars. Roll the drum and fire the volley! What to him are all our wars, What but death bemocking folly?
...Lovers are Like walking ghosts, they always haunt the spot Of their misdeeds. - George Henry Boker
...Lovers are Like walking ghosts, they always haunt the spot Of their misdeeds.
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