Marching Streets (F Scott Fitzgerald Poems)
Death slays the moon and the long dark deepens,Hastens to the city, to the drear stone-heaps,Films all eyes and whispers ...
Death slays the moon and the long dark deepens,Hastens to the city, to the drear stone-heaps,Films all eyes and whispers ...
THE last light wanes and drifts across the land, The low, long land, the sunny land of spires. The ghosts ...
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