The Crystal Lithium (James Schuyler Poems)
The smell of snow, stinging in nostrils as the wind lifts it from a beachEve-shuttering, mixed with sand, or when ...
The smell of snow, stinging in nostrils as the wind lifts it from a beachEve-shuttering, mixed with sand, or when ...
Whenas in silks my Julia goes, Till, then, methinks, how sweetly flows That liquefaction of her clothes! Next, when I ...
NO more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk. A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith! We ...
Eighty-one degrees a record high for the day which is not my birthday but will do until the eleventh of ...
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