Henry Clay (Effie Afton Poems)
Wail, winds of summer, as ye sweep The arching skies; O, let your echoes ...
Wail, winds of summer, as ye sweep The arching skies; O, let your echoes ...
I'm tired, I'm tired of life, brother! Of all that meets my eye; And my weary spirit ...
Our Helen is a "perfect love" Of a blue-eyed baby; When she's grown she'll be a belle, ...
And beats my heart again with joy!And dances now my spirit light!The skiff that holds my darling boyThis moment burst ...
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