ego addict

18.06.2026 02:44

A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine! To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, And press the rue for wine. A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A feather of the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green— No more of me ye knew, My Love! No more of me ye knew. 'This morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain; But she shall bloom in winter snow Ere we two meet again.' —He turn'd his charger as he spake Upon the river shore, He gave the bridle-reins a shake, Said 'Adieu for evermore, My Love! And adieu for evermore.'

A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine! To pull the th… — ego addict · Стрекоза

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Самозанятый Смирнов Роман Андреевич · ИНН 772035040259 · г. Москва Правовая информация