‘Twas June, Not I (Frances Fuller Victor Poems)
Come out into the garden, Maud; In whispered tones young Percy said: He but repeated what ...
Come out into the garden, Maud; In whispered tones young Percy said: He but repeated what ...
Sweet, kiss my eyelids close, and let me lie, On this old-fashioned sofa, in the dim And purple ...
Dull, yellow, heavy, lustreless-- With less of radiance than the burnished tress, Crumpled on Beauty's forehead: cloddish, cold, ...
The crimson color lays As bright as beauty's blush along the West; And a warm golden ...
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