Songs of Nature COS No 2: ABBA

Divided droplets formed handheld mirth tames, for they beheld Earth in their gentle fall, like stars drop the night, all is heavens call, know their named true, they'll climb make good their claims. American Beauty Rose, blossoms art exhaustive, and as there's none to question thou hast finds that clear a room's impression, thus, to heaven astir, shines through your heart. Lily, my dearest, how befitting of names of one who vigils cemeteries. Thy reach of yourselves from commentaries, 'tis naught ours but be thine, think of thee, my love. Thy tendril's secrets aire are more sublime Forget-me-not thy scent hast taste of time.