The Vagabonds (Bliss Carman Poem)
We are the vagabonds of time, And rove the yellow autumn days, When all the roads are gray with rime ...
We are the vagabonds of time, And rove the yellow autumn days, When all the roads are gray with rime ...
I The rutted roads are all like iron; skies Are keen and brilliant; only the oak-leaves cling In the bare ...
TO the assembled folk At great St. Kavin's spoke Young Brother Amiel on Christmas Eve; I give you joy, my ...
In a still room at hush of dawn, My Love and I lay side by side And heard the roaming ...
I Soul, what art thou in the tribes of the sea? LORD, said a flying fish, Below the foundations of ...
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