A DEAD POET
Fair Death, kind Death, it was a gracious deedTo take that weary vagrant to thy breast.Love, Song and Wine had he, and but one need—Rest.
Fair Death, kind Death, it was a gracious deedTo take that weary vagrant to thy breast.Love, Song and Wine had he, and but one need—Rest.
Fair Death, kind Death, it was a gracious deed
To take that weary vagrant to thy breast.
Love, Song and Wine had he, and but one need—
Rest.