On A Ruined Farm Near The ‘His Master’s Voice Gramophone Factory’ (George Orwell Poems)
As I stand at the lichened gateWith warring worlds on either hand -To left the black and budless trees,The empty ...
As I stand at the lichened gateWith warring worlds on either hand -To left the black and budless trees,The empty ...
Summer-like for an instant the autumn sun bursts out,And the light through the turning elms is green and clear;It slants ...
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