The Dead President (Edward Rowland Sill Poems)
WERE there no crowns on earth, No evergreen to weave a hero's wreath, That he must pass beyond the gates ...
WERE there no crowns on earth, No evergreen to weave a hero's wreath, That he must pass beyond the gates ...
WHAT cared she for the free hearts? She would comfort The prisoned one: What recked I of the wanton other ...
IF I were very sure That all was over betwixt you and me- That, while this endless absence I endure ...
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