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‹ She died — this was the way she died. • The Sun kept stooping — stooping — low! ›
October 24, 2009 in Poems | 1 comment
Mute thy Coronation – Meek my Vive le roi, Fold a tiny courtier In thine Ermine, Sir, There to rest revering Till the pageant by, I can murmur broken, Master, It was I –
Tags: broken, coronation, courtier, ermine, master, meek, murmur, pageant, rest, revering, roi, sir, vive
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Keeping Up with Emily
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October 26, 2009 at 12:02 am
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October 26, 2009 at 12:02 am
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