The songs from a person called human.

p/s: No matter how gifted you are, not everyone is gonna like you.
16.Claribel: A Melody
Wednesday, April 10, 2013






Where Claribel low-lieth

The breezes pause and die,

Letting the rose-leaves fall:

But the solemn oak-tree sigheth,

Thick-leaved, ambrosial,

With an ancient melody

Of an inward agony,

Where Claribel low-lieth.




At eve the beetle boometh

Athwart the thicket lone:

At noon the wild bee hummeth

About the moss'd headstone:

At midnight the moon cometh,

And looketh down alone.

Her song the lintwhite swelleth,

The clear-voiced mavis dwelleth,

The callow throstle lispeth,

The slumbrous wave outwelleth,

The babbling runnel crispeth,

The hollow grot replieth

Where Claribel low-lieth.


Alfred Lord Tennyson

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