A Soldier (Robert Frost Poem)
He is that fallen lance that lies as hurled, That lies unlifted now, come dew, come rust, But still lies ...
He is that fallen lance that lies as hurled, That lies unlifted now, come dew, come rust, But still lies ...
Love and forgetting might have carried them A little further up the mountain side With night so near, but not ...
He is that fallen lance that lies as hurled, That lies unlifted now, come dew, come rust, But still lies ...
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