.
Death stands above me, whispering low
I know not what into my ear:
Of his strange language all I know
Is, there is not a word of fear.
—Walter Savage Landor
(1775-1864)
.
Death stands above me, whispering low
I know not what into my ear:
Of his strange language all I know
Is, there is not a word of fear.
—Walter Savage Landor
(1775-1864)
.
