Why (Bliss Carman Poem)
FOR a name unknown, Whose fame unblown Sleeps in the hills For ever and aye; For her who hears The ...
FOR a name unknown, Whose fame unblown Sleeps in the hills For ever and aye; For her who hears The ...
I The rutted roads are all like iron; skies Are keen and brilliant; only the oak-leaves cling In the bare ...
I LORD of the grass and hill, Lord of the rain, White Overlord of will, Master of pain, I who ...
O all the little rivers that run to Hudson's Bay, They call me and call me to follow them away. ...
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