Old (Ralph Hoyt Poems)
By the wayside, on a mossy stone, Sat a hoary pilgrim, sadly musing;Oft I marked him sitting there alone. All the landscape, ...
By the wayside, on a mossy stone, Sat a hoary pilgrim, sadly musing;Oft I marked him sitting there alone. All the landscape, ...
A tumbledown old house I know -Beside its doorstep burdocks grow;Its narrow windows seem to winceAs if it grieves and ...
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