google.com, pub-0290649250408789, DIRECT, f08c47fec0942fa0
High on a mantel rose a moan
It came from an idol carved in bone;
"Oh, it's so lonesome here alone,
With no one near to love me."
A cautious smile came over the face
Of a pensive maid on a Grecian vase,
"Are you sure?" she said with charming grace,
"There's no one near to love you?"
Like us on Facebook! Tell your friends about us!
Do not miss the new stuff!
Sign up for our newsletter!