Poulain The Prisoner (Augusta Davies Webster Poems)
I.BEYOND his silent vault green springs went by, The river flashed along its open way, Blithe swallows flitted ...
I.BEYOND his silent vault green springs went by, The river flashed along its open way, Blithe swallows flitted ...
There's nothing grieves me, but that Age should haste, That in my days I may not see thee old, That ...
The summer and autumn had been so wet, That in winter the corn was growing yet, 'Twas a piteous sight ...
Holland, that scarce deserves the name of Land, As but th'Off-scouring of the Brittish Sand; And so much Earth as ...
No more of talk where God or Angel guest With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd, To sit indulgent, ...
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