A Song Of Exmoor (Sir Henry Newbolt Poems)
The Forest above and the Combe below,On a bright September morn!He's the soul of a clod who thanks not GodThat ...
The Forest above and the Combe below,On a bright September morn!He's the soul of a clod who thanks not GodThat ...
For whatever did it-the cider at the Ship Inn, where the crowd from the bar that night had overflowed singing ...
Lost aboard the roll of Kodac- olor that was to have super- seded all need to remember Somerset were: a ...
Porlock! thy verdant vale so fair to sight, Thy lofty hills which fern and furze imbrown, The waters that roll ...
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