Tag Archives: The Record

poem – the record

HE sleeps, his head upon his sword, His soldier’s cloak a shroud; His church-yard is the open field,– Three times it has been plough’d: The first time that the wheat sprung up ‘Twas black as if with blood, The meanest … Continue reading

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Posted in Letitia Elizabeth Landon (1802-1838 / England) | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment