Thursday, September 27, 2012

Sonnets (From Harper's Monthly, 1854) Comments

Rating: 0.0

What though my years are falling like thy leaves,
Oh, Autumn! When the winds are plumed with night
They have thy colors, thy enameled light,
And all the fullness of thy ripened sheaves.
...
Read full text

Park Benjamin
COMMENTS
Close
Error Success