There are bosoms on which so many tears have been shed that I cannot bedew them with mine.
They draw the eye down to a woman's bosoms, so a shorter bob above the collar bone keeps attentions at eye level, up towards the brain.
They draw the eye down to a woman's bosoms, so a shorter bob above the collar bone keeps attentions at eye level, up towards the brain.
It may be strange—yet who would change Time's course to slower speeding, When one by one our friends have gone And left our bosoms bleeding?
