The constant love you feel:
Beware, lest overmuch of pride
Your happiness shall steal.
No longer pout, for May is here,
And hearts will have their way;
Love’s in the calendar, my dear,
So yield to fate—and May!
Robert Underwood Johnson.
The constant love you feel:
Beware, lest overmuch of pride
Your happiness shall steal.
No longer pout, for May is here,
And hearts will have their way;
Love’s in the calendar, my dear,
So yield to fate—and May!
Robert Underwood Johnson.