Bog-land Studies By J. Barlow: 3rd ed |
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Bog-land Studies | ||
IX
But the dhrame I dhreamt that night was as sthrange as sthrange, for thinI thought I had come to a place whose aquil I never was in,
An' nobody'd tould me 'twas out o' this world, yet as soon as I came
Just o' meself I knew it, as people will in a dhrame.
62
The colour o' leaves in the spring, wid a thrimble o' mist between;
An' the smell o' the spring was in it, but the light that sthramed over all
Was liker the shine of a sunset whin leaves are beginnin' to fall.
Bog-land Studies | ||