RT Synapse - шаблон joomla Книги
Mountain landscape with a lake trees and wild flowers It was beautiful as long as it lasted, the journey of my life, I have no regrets whatsoever, save the pain I'll leave behind.


From - Break, Break, Break

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

 

Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me

And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanished hand,
and the sound of a voice that is still.

 


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