Monday, September 8, 2014

The Ruin Comments

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THE bitter wind blows o'er the desolate wold,
—The bloom from the blossom forever is sped!—
And I must trudge on thro' the sleet and the cold,
And sweet to my heart were the lot of the dead.
...
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Joseph Skipsey
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Joseph Skipsey

Joseph Skipsey

Percy, Northumberland
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