NovelA woman's love for us increases The less we love her, sooth to say- She stoops, she falls, her struggling ceases; Caught fast, she cannot get away.Alexander Pushkin1837★ 3.6
PoemStorm-clouds whirl and storm-clouds scurry; From behind them pale moonlight Flickers where the snowflakes hurry. Dark the sky and dark the night.Alexander Pushkin1830★ 1.9
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