To Henry The Fifth (Mary Hannay Foott Poems)
My youth was passing, Sire, whilst you amongThe cradle-wrappings slept; my morning-songSung o'er your pillow. Winds of heaven have thrownUs ...
My youth was passing, Sire, whilst you amongThe cradle-wrappings slept; my morning-songSung o'er your pillow. Winds of heaven have thrownUs ...
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