K. MOUNSEY(HOME STUDENT)
K. MOUNSEY(HOME STUDENT)
K. MOUNSEY(HOME STUDENT)
Throughthe half-opened door the light streams outAcross the street,And lays a path of gold on stones worn greyBy passing feet.I catch a glimpse of flowers in quaint old bowlsStanding in gloom,And many books on intimate low shelvesGo round the room.
Throughthe half-opened door the light streams outAcross the street,And lays a path of gold on stones worn greyBy passing feet.I catch a glimpse of flowers in quaint old bowlsStanding in gloom,And many books on intimate low shelvesGo round the room.
Throughthe half-opened door the light streams outAcross the street,And lays a path of gold on stones worn greyBy passing feet.I catch a glimpse of flowers in quaint old bowlsStanding in gloom,And many books on intimate low shelvesGo round the room.
Throughthe half-opened door the light streams out
Across the street,
And lays a path of gold on stones worn grey
By passing feet.
I catch a glimpse of flowers in quaint old bowls
Standing in gloom,
And many books on intimate low shelves
Go round the room.