British Georgics. November (James Grahame Poems)
While wind and rain drive through the half-stripped trees,Fanners and flails go merrily in the barn.Each brook and river sweeps ...
While wind and rain drive through the half-stripped trees,Fanners and flails go merrily in the barn.Each brook and river sweeps ...
The Squire was none of your common men Whose ancestors nobody knows,But visible was his lineage In the lines of his Roman ...
Ah, haughty hills, sardonic solitudes, What wizard touch hath, crowning you with gold, Cast Tyrian purple o'er broad-shouldered woods, And to your pride ...
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