To A Moth That Drinketh Of The Ripe October. (Emily Pfeiffer Poems)
I. A MOTH belated,-sun and zephyr-kist,- Trembling about a pale arbutus bell, Probing to wildering depths its honeyed cell,- A ...
I. A MOTH belated,-sun and zephyr-kist,- Trembling about a pale arbutus bell, Probing to wildering depths its honeyed cell,- A ...
I had been hungry, all the Years-My Noon had Come-to dine-I trembling drew the Table near-And touched the Curious Wine-'Twas ...
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