When Mother Combed My Hair (James Whitcomb Riley Poems)
When Memory, with gentle hand,Has led me to that foreign landOf childhood days, I long to beAgain the boy on ...
When Memory, with gentle hand,Has led me to that foreign landOf childhood days, I long to beAgain the boy on ...
I.Master and Sage, greetings and health to thee,From thy most meek disciple! Deign once moreEndure me at thy feet, enlighten ...
When I am dead and sister to the dust; When no more avidly I drink the wine Of human love; ...
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