The Burning of the Leaves (Laurence Binyon Poem)
Now is the time for the burning of the leaves, They go to the fire; the nostrils prick with smoke ...
Now is the time for the burning of the leaves, They go to the fire; the nostrils prick with smoke ...
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children, England mourns for her dead across the sea. Flesh of her flesh ...
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