‘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 ...
Poet Oh, my soul! the draught is bitter Yet it must be sweetly drunken: Heart and ...
Behold my soul? She sits so far above you Your wildest dream has never glanced so high; ...
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