Rooks (Charles Sorley Poems)
There where the rusty iron lies, The rooks are cawing all the day. Perhaps no man, until he dies, Will ...
There where the rusty iron lies, The rooks are cawing all the day. Perhaps no man, until he dies, Will ...
We burrowed night and day with tools of lead, Heaped the bank up and cast it in a ring And ...
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