On An Apple-Ripe September Morning (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
On an apple-ripe September morningThrough the mist-chill fields I wentWith a pitch-fork on my shoulderLess for use than for devilment.The ...
On an apple-ripe September morningThrough the mist-chill fields I wentWith a pitch-fork on my shoulderLess for use than for devilment.The ...
We borrowed the loan of Kerr's assTo go to Dundalk with butter,Brought him home the evening before the marketAnd exile ...
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