Ｏnce i meet you
you never die
before me
To─ [Music, When Soft Voices Die]
Music,when soft voices die
Vibrates in the memory.
Odours,when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.—
Rose leaves,when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed—
And so thy thought,when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
- Percy Bysshe Shelley(1792-1822)
