Feb 2017
I love to see the springtime
The wheat green in the blade,
And all the sweetly singing birds
in every blossoming glade;
and the pretty red blood on the fresh grass
where the dead men are laid.
The wheat green in the blade,
And all the sweetly singing birds
in every blossoming glade;
and the pretty red blood on the fresh grass
where the dead men are laid.
(Wanstead (London E11))
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