Underneath the Bough: A Book of Verses

by George Allan England

That stoop to kiss the stream?

Or sing ye burning streets and sweating toil

Where we spawned swarms of men, unendingly,

Above, below, in mart and workshop’s moil

Have quite forgot thee, O mine Arcady?...

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My Garden.

With a copy of “Sonnets of this Century.”

THIS little book, a Garden where the bloom