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 ...
When the pods went pop on the broom, green broom, And apples began to be golden-skinn'd, We harbour'd a stag ...
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