Abraham Lincoln (Phoebe Cary Poems)
Our sun hath gone down at the noonday, The heavens are black; And over the morning the shadows Of night-time are back. Stop the ...
Our sun hath gone down at the noonday, The heavens are black; And over the morning the shadows Of night-time are back. Stop the ...
"Now, good-wife, bring your precious hoard,"The Norland farmer cried,"And heap the hearth, and heap the board,For the blessed Christmas-tide."And bid ...
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