Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.98

From Email:	Required Email Address Not Valid.
To Email:	Email Address Not Valid. Required
Subject	Required
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem	This valley wood is pledged To the set shape of things, And reasonably hedged: Here are no harpies fledged, No rocs may clap their wings, Nor gryphons wave their stings. Here, poised in quietude, Calm elementals brood On the set shape of things: They fend away alarms From this green wood. Here nothing is that harms - No bulls with lungs of brass, No toothed or spiny grass, No tree whose clutching arms Drink blood when travellers pass, No mount of glass; No bardic tongues unfold Satires or charms. Only, the lawns are soft, The tree-stems, grave and old; Slow branches sway aloft, The evening air comes cold, The sunset scatters gold. Small grasses toss and bend, Small pathways idly tend Towards no fearful end.
	Type the characters you see in the picture Required