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 | American poems, selected and original |  |
‘See, upon the shore she's raving:
‘Down she falls upon the sands:
‘Now, she tears her flesh with madness;
‘Now, she prays with lifted hands.
‘Down she falls upon the sands:
‘Now, she tears her flesh with madness;
‘Now, she prays with lifted hands.
| American poems, selected and original | |