Home | Poem Network | About Us | Contact | Privacy Policy


  • love poems by maya angelou

    • 85


    La Belle Dame Sans Merci a poem by John Keats

    Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, Alone and palely loitering; The sedge is wither'd from the lake, And no birds sing. Ah, what can ail thee, ...

    0 comments:

    Post a Comment

    Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)