Versos English Carolyn Wells A sad, mad maiden, with a fair, sweet face

English poem

A sad, mad maiden, with a fair, sweet face

by (1862–1942)

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A sad, mad maiden, with a fair, sweet face Offered my first, and called it herb of grace.

My last is made of common clay, but then He ’s liked extremely by his fellow-men.

When I would seek instruction for my soul, I take my prayer-book down and read my whole.