I Fights Mit Sigel (Grant P Robinson Poems)
I met him again, he was trudging along, His knapsack with chickens was swelling;He'd "Blenkered" these dainties, and thought it no ...
I met him again, he was trudging along, His knapsack with chickens was swelling;He'd "Blenkered" these dainties, and thought it no ...
Shall our memories live, when the sod rolls above us And marks our last home with a mouldering heap?Shall the ...
Let not young souls be smothered out before They do quaint deeds and fully flaunt their pride. It is the ...
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