God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.
Robert BrowningKiss me as if you made believe You were not sure this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed It's petals up.
Robert BrowningGod's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.
Robert BrowningKiss me as if you made believe You were not sure this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed It's petals up.
Robert Browning