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. Bicycles! Tricycles!
2. The Sun
3. An Insectarian
4. Cats
5. The Pleiads

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