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Thomas Bailey Aldrich – Miss Mehetabel’s Son
A MAN with a passion for bric-à-brac is always stumbling over antique bronzes, intaglios, mosaics, and daggers of the time…
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich – After the Rain
THE rain has ceased, and in my roomThe sunshine pours an airy flood;And on the church’s dizzy vaneThe ancient cross…
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich – A Touch of Nature
When first the crocus thrusts its point of goldUp through the still snow-drifted garden mould,And folded green things in dim…
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich – Destiny
Three roses, wan as moonlight, and weighed downEach with its loveliness as with a crown,Drooped in a florist’s window in…
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich – Echo-Song
I. WHO can say where Echo dwells?In some mountain-cave methinks,Where the white owl sits and blinks;Or in deep sequestered dells,Where…
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich – Identity
SOMEWHERE–in desolate wind-swept space–In Twilight-land–in No-man’s land–Two hurrying Shapes met face to face,And bade each other stand. “And who are…
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