Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,— " Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, " art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly... Beautiful poetry, selected by the ed. of The Critic - Pagina 364 door Beautiful poetry - 1853 Volledige weergave -
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