The Bread Of Angels (Edith Wharton Poems)
AT that lost hour disowned of day and night, The after-birth of midnight, when life's face Turns to the wall ...
AT that lost hour disowned of day and night, The after-birth of midnight, when life's face Turns to the wall ...
IA THIN moon faints in the sky o'erhead,And dumb in the churchyard lie the dead.Walk we not, Sweet, by garden ...
I.LIKE Crusoe with the bootless gold we standUpon the desert verge of death, and say:"What shall avail the woes of ...
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