![](https://www.thefleetingworld.nl/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/MG_8493_2013.jpg)
“I passed by your window
When the morning was red,
The dew on the rosebud,
The lark overhead,
And oh! I sang softly,
Though no one could hear,
To bid you good morning,
Good morning, my dear.”
(H. Taylor in I passed by your window)
Marchin (B)
"Picture and text are showing the transitory character of reality"