Unspoken Language (Lydia Howard Huntley Sigourney Poems)
LANGUAGE is slow. The mastery of wantsDoth teach it to the infant, drop by drop,As brooklets gather.Years of studious toilUnfold ...
LANGUAGE is slow. The mastery of wantsDoth teach it to the infant, drop by drop,As brooklets gather.Years of studious toilUnfold ...
Today I smiled, and all at once things didn't look so bad. Today I shared with someone else, a bit ...
OLD FITZ, who from your suburb grange, Where once I tarried for a while, Glance at the wheeling orb of ...
The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read Beneath the long,straggly branches of an old willow tree. ...
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