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."

1. A Legacy
2. At Cock-Crow
3. Bicycles! Tricycles!
4. Butterfly
5. Silk

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