Aforetime (Thomas Sturge Moore Poems)
Dear exile from the hurrying crowd,At work I muse to you aloud;Thought on my anvil softens, glows,And I forget our ...
Dear exile from the hurrying crowd,At work I muse to you aloud;Thought on my anvil softens, glows,And I forget our ...
O SILVER-THROATED SwanStruck, struck! A golden dartClean through thy breast has goneHome to thy heart.Thrill, thrill, O silver throat!O silver ...
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