The Tournament (Menella Bute Smedley Poems)
The churches twelve of WallingfordA stately sight they were,When gleaming shields were hangingFrom every column fair;For a mile around the ...
The churches twelve of WallingfordA stately sight they were,When gleaming shields were hangingFrom every column fair;For a mile around the ...
Word was brought where Cortes layOn the shores of Coronzel,That, pent from the blessed light of dayAnd the free breath ...
She is sleeping on the grass,Where her daily footsteps pass;All her errands left undoneAt the bidding of the sun;From the ...
He stands at the door of the church peeping in,No troublesome beadle is near him;The preacher is talking of sinners ...
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