Yet Do I Marvel
I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind,
And did He stoop to quibble could tell why
The little buried mole continues blind, . . .
- View 3 Lines
- View Titles Only
You charm'd me not with that fair face
You charm'd me not with that fair face
Though it was all divine:
To be another's is the grace,
. . .
Youth
Strange bird,
His song remains secret.
He worked too hard to read books. . . .
