Sunday, November 4, 2018

Skylark, have you seen a valley green with spring where my heart can go a-journeying, over the shadows in the rain to a blossom covered lane? And in your lonely flight, haven't you heard the music in the night, wonderful music, faint as a will-o-the-wisp, crazy as a loon, sad as a gypsy serenading the moon.

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