To John Keats, Poet, At Spring Time (Countee Cullen Poems)
I cannot hold my peace, John Keats; There never was a spring like this; It is an echo, that repeats ...
I cannot hold my peace, John Keats; There never was a spring like this; It is an echo, that repeats ...
Some are teethed on a silver spoon, With the stars strung for a rattle; I cut my teeth as the ...
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