April On Waggon Hill (Sir Henry Newbolt Poems)
Lad, and can you rest now,There beneath your hill!Your hands are on your breast now,But is your heart so still?'Twas ...
Lad, and can you rest now,There beneath your hill!Your hands are on your breast now,But is your heart so still?'Twas ...
We loved our nightjar, but she would not stay with us. We had found her lying as dead, but soft ...
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