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 | American poems, selected and original |  |
“See his little sister by him;
“Quaking, trembling, how she lies!
“Drops of blood her face besprinkle;
“Tears of anguish fill her eyes.
“Quaking, trembling, how she lies!
“Drops of blood her face besprinkle;
“Tears of anguish fill her eyes.
| American poems, selected and original | |