Tag Archive: To a Young Lady who Sent Me a Laurel Crown

To a Young Lady who Sent Me a Laurel Crown

Fresh morning gusts have blown away all fear From my glad bosom,—now from gloominess I mount for ever—not an atom less Than the proud laurel shall content my bier. No! by the eternal stars! or why sit here In the Sun’s eye, and ‘gainst my temples press Apollo’s very leaves, woven to bless By thy …

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