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The Great Poets: Her final summer was it
Teresa Gallagher
The Great Poets
The Great Poets: Hope is a subtle glutton
The Great Poets: Hope is the thing with feathers
The Great Poets: How happy is the little Stone
The Great Poets: How the old Mountains drip with Sunset
The Great Poets: I asked no other thing
The Great Poets: I bring an unaccustomed wine
The Great Poets: I can wade grief
The Great Poets: I cannot live with you
The Great Poets: I died for beauty, but was scarce
The Great Poets: I dreaded that first Robin, so
The Great Poets: I dwell in Possibility
The Great Poets: I envy seas whereon he rides
The Great Poets: I felt a Funeral, in my Brain
The Great Poets: I gave myself to him
The Great Poets: I had no cause to be awake
The Great Poets: I had no time to hate, because
The Great Poets: I have never seen 'Volcanoes'