“I thought of the dress that she wore last time When we stood 'neath the cypress-trees together In that lost land, in that soft clime In the crimson evening weather”
―
Robert Bulwer-Lytton,
Poems
“I thought of the dress that she wore last time When we stood 'neath the cypress-trees together In that lost land, in that soft clime In the crimson evening weather”
―
Robert Bulwer-Lytton,
Poems