For the black bat, night, has flown, Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone ; And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown. Littell's Living Age - Page 331855Full view - About this book
 | Mark Van Doren - 1951 - 594 pages
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 | John Killham - 1960 - 288 pages
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 | John Killham - 1960 - 282 pages
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