Misconceptions (Robert Browning Poem)
This is a spray the Bird clung to, Making it blossom with pleasure, Ere the high tree-top she sprung to, ...
This is a spray the Bird clung to, Making it blossom with pleasure, Ere the high tree-top she sprung to, ...
'Not by the justice that my father spurn'd, Not for the thousands whom my father slew, Altars unfed and temples ...
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