Rose of Aberlone (Brainerd Currie Poems)
I 'T is the middle of night on the Greenfield farm And the creatures are huddled to keep them from ...
I 'T is the middle of night on the Greenfield farm And the creatures are huddled to keep them from ...
The cuckoo's double noteLoosened like bubbles from a drowning throatFloats through the airIn mockery of pipit, lark and stare.The stable-boys ...
I Blessed be this place, More blessed still this tower; A bloody, arrogant power Rose out of the race Uttering, ...
Us all on sore cement was we. Not warmed then with glares. Not glutting mush under that pole the lightning's ...
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