Not Quite the Remnant of Those Myriad Poems That Yestereve I Composed
...The armies they are massing:
They line and ring every shore, every strand bristling with
The deadliest of weapons;
The tocsin should be sounded,
And every cannon is round at its bore.
Fires ra...
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Categories:
indiscriminating, absence, adventure, africa, allegory,
Form: I do not know?
Categories:
indiscriminating, holiday,
Form: Concrete