How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days
beauty
A selected quote by John Burroughs.
How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days
Related
I would jump down Etna for any public good - but I hate a mawkish popularity.
Four seasons fill the measure of the year; there are four seasons in the mind of man
The roaring of the wind is my wife and the stars through the window pane are my children
There's a woman like a dew-drop, she's so purer than the purest
The poetry of the earth is never dead