Treasure Island

David MacDonald Ross

(1865 / Australia)

Comments about David MacDonald Ross

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Love's Treasure House

I went to Love's old treasure house last night,
Alone, when all the world was still -- asleep,
And saw the miser Memory, grown gray
With years of jealous counting of his gems,
There seated. Keen was his eye, his hand
Firm as when first his hoarding he began
Of precious things of Love, long years ago.
"And this," he said, "is gold from out her hair,
And this the moonlight that she wandered in,

[Hata Bildir]