Words
If all my words
Were scattered on the sand,
To mingle with
The acres of the sea,
Just four I’d keep
To hold you at the hand…
My woman now:
‘Grow old with me!’
David Lewis Paget
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If all my words
Were scattered on the sand,
To mingle with
The acres of the sea,
Just four I’d keep
To hold you at the hand…
My woman now:
‘Grow old with me!’
David Lewis Paget