How dear to me the twilight hour!
It breathes, it speaks of pleasures past;
When Laura sought this humble bower,
And o'er it courtly splendours cast.
...
Read full text
The beginning two lines spoke to me the clearest- twilight seems to be the time to sit at the window and watch the darkness overtake the day and remember the past and grieve over people lost- - - - - - - How dear to me the twilight hour! It breathes, it speaks of pleasures past;
Yet, no; ah, no! forget, forget My ardent love, my faith, and me; Remember not we ever met; I would not cause one pang to thee.............So intense....so....so.....Beautiful piece of love and cry, agony and ecstasy. Nice indeed.
Memoirs of the love and loved one are captivating. Thanks for sharing.
True love is very dear to the heart! Remembrance. Thanks for sharing.
Nicely thought and written. And in rememberance the pleasure is to recall the past with joy n happpiness.