A Fragment (I) (Philip James Bailey Poems)
And Zetland where, betimes, some ruthless wightScaling the scaur, in sport the nests despoilsOf auk or gull; they, crowding clamorous ...
And Zetland where, betimes, some ruthless wightScaling the scaur, in sport the nests despoilsOf auk or gull; they, crowding clamorous ...
Lady, since thou hast driven me forth, Since thou, unkind, hast banished me (Though cause of such neglect be none), ...
Arthur is gone . . . Tristram in CareolSleeps, with a broken sword - and Yseult sleepsBeside him, where the ...
I am the torch, she saith, and what to meIf the moth die of me? I am the flameOf Beauty, ...
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