Free all my soul from vanity;
Gray eyes, that speak all wistfully—
Nothing but these I know, alas!
R. W. C.
April, 1896.
INTRODUCTION.
I.
Where two fair paths, deep flowered
And leaf-embowered,
Free all my soul from vanity;
Gray eyes, that speak all wistfully—
Nothing but these I know, alas!
R. W. C.
April, 1896.
I.
Where two fair paths, deep flowered
And leaf-embowered,