Ocupation: Poet
Life: 1860 - 1914
Birthday: 1860
Death: 1914
As I go musing through this mournful land Soothed by the pine-tree's solemn harmony, Thy well-loved image comes and walks by me. I seem to hold thee by the gentle hand And talk of things I dimly understand, That thy dear spirit set to mine may be As to an intricate lock the simple key.
topic: Simple, Keys, Hands, Musings