My Child (John Pierpont Poems)
I cannot make him dead! His fair sunshiny head Is ever bounding round my study-chair; Yet, when my eyes, now ...
I cannot make him dead! His fair sunshiny head Is ever bounding round my study-chair; Yet, when my eyes, now ...
The first of the undecoded messages read: "Popeye sits in thunder, Unthought of. From that shoebox of an apartment, From ...
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