British Georgics. December (James Grahame Poems)
Loud raves the blast, and, smell, the sleety showersDrive over hill and dale with hurrying sweep.The leafless boughs all to ...
Loud raves the blast, and, smell, the sleety showersDrive over hill and dale with hurrying sweep.The leafless boughs all to ...
'T is in the twinkle of escapeThat all our safety lies.Of danger—whatsoe'er the shape—The nearness naught implies:This side is life; ...
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