The Old-Fashioned Garden (John Russell Hayes Poems)
The house is hoary with the mould of years,And crumbling are its ivy-covered walls;The rain-storms dim it with their misty ...
The house is hoary with the mould of years,And crumbling are its ivy-covered walls;The rain-storms dim it with their misty ...
And sharp as sword's clash came the one word, "Wait!"Wait? He had waited years. The soft-eyed spring,Crowned with sweet daisies ...
Oh, would that she were here,These hills and dales among,Where vocal groves are gayly mockedBy Echo's airy tongue:Where jocund nature ...
My garden roses long agoHave perished from the leaf-strewn walks;Their pale, fair sisters smile no moreUpon the sweet-brier stalks.Gone with ...
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