The Gentle Snorer (Mona Van Duyn Poems)
When summer came, we locked up our lives and fledto the woods in Maine, and pulled up over our headsa ...
When summer came, we locked up our lives and fledto the woods in Maine, and pulled up over our headsa ...
Accurs?d to the Medes, as to himself, That fatal hour when,--mad with fiercest hate,-- His private wrong on one man ...
I stood in the street in the noontide, precisely at midday time,For the loud-mouthed bells of the G.P.O. had that ...
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