Our Little Ghost (Louisa May Alcott Poems)
Oft, in the silence of the night, When the lonely moon rides high,When wintry winds are whistling, And we hear the owl's ...
Oft, in the silence of the night, When the lonely moon rides high,When wintry winds are whistling, And we hear the owl's ...
We mourn the loss of our little pet, And sigh o'er her hapless fate, For never more by the fire she'll sit, Nor ...
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