To an Old Grammar (Martha M Simpson Poems)
Oh, mighty conjuror, you raise The ghost of my lost youth —The happy, golden-tinted daysWhen earth her treasure-trove displays, And everything is ...
Oh, mighty conjuror, you raise The ghost of my lost youth —The happy, golden-tinted daysWhen earth her treasure-trove displays, And everything is ...
I no longer belong but control the tremblingAblaze and senile, sleepless in the pastIn the things that have happened, the ...
The Veins of other Flowers The Scarlet Flowers are Till Nature leisure has for Terms As "Branch," and "Jugular." We ...
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