I Wither Slowly
“I wither slowly... Here at the quiet limit of the world, A white-hair'd shadow roaming like a dream The ever-silent spaces of the East, Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn.” - “Tithonus”; Alfred, Lord Tennyson
“I wither slowly... Here at the quiet limit of the world, A white-hair'd shadow roaming like a dream The ever-silent spaces of the East, Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn.” - “Tithonus”; Alfred, Lord Tennyson