Phantasmagoria Canto I (The Trystyng ) (Lewis Carroll Poem)
ONE winter night, at half-past nine, Cold, tired, and cross, and muddy, I had come home, too late to dine, ...
ONE winter night, at half-past nine, Cold, tired, and cross, and muddy, I had come home, too late to dine, ...
Blow, blow your trumpets till they crack, Ye little men of little souls! And bid them huddle at your back ...
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