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To-Day

Rating: 2.8

I rake no coffined clay, nor publish wide
The resurrection of departed pride.
Safe in their ancient crannies, dark and deep,
Let kings and conquerors, saints and soldiers sleep--
Late in the world,--too late perchance for fame,
Just late enough to reap abundant blame,--
I choose a novel theme, a bold abuse
Of critic charters, an unlaurelled Muse.

Old mouldy men and books and names and lands

Disgust my reason and defile my hands.
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Fabrizio Frosini 19 October 2015

- - poem number 108 and n° 109 are just the same poem - -

4 1 Reply
Fabrizio Frosini 19 October 2015

*.......T-Day and To-Day are the same poems....*

0 1 Reply

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