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Poem by John Bannister Tabb An Interview I sat with chill December Beside the evening fire. "And what do you remember," I ventured to inquire, "Of seasons long forsaken?" He answered in amaze, "My age you have mistaken; I've lived but thirty days." John Bannister Tabb John Bannister Tabb's other poems: 1230 Views |
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English Poetry. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |