The Bird At Dawn By Harold Monro

The Bird At Dawn What I saw was just one eye In the dawn as I was going : A bird can carry all the…

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Solitude By Harold Monro

Solitude WHEN you have tidied all things for the night, And while your thoughts are fading to their sleep, You’ll pause a moment in the…

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Real Property By Harold Monro

Real Property Tell me about that harvest field. Oh! Fifty acres of living bread. The colour has painted itself in my heart; The form is…

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Goldfish By Harold Monro

Goldfish They are the angels of that watery world, With so much knowledge that they just aspire To move themselves on golden fins, Or fill…

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Every Thing By Harold Monro

Every Thing Since man has been articulate, Mechanical, improvidently wise, (Servant of Fate), He has not understood the little cries And foreign conversations of the…

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