In sad, pansive or vacant mood,
They flash upon that inward eye,
Which is bliss of the solitude.
My heart with pleasure fills,
And I dance with dafodills!
Wordsworth.
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| MY HOMEPAGE | ||||||||||||||||
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| Far oft, when on my coach I lie, In sad, pansive or vacant mood, They flash upon that inward eye, Which is bliss of the solitude. My heart with pleasure fills, And I dance with dafodills! Wordsworth. |
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| A seren impulse from a vernal wood, can teach you ... | ||||||||||||||||
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| Name: | Sanjeev Kumar | |||||||||||||||
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