English poem
Xii
by Charles Lamb
"In that aguish clime I should catch my death, Being but a raw new comer"-- Quoth he, "We have plenty of fuel stout; And the fires, which I kindle, never go out By winter, nor yet by summer.
Versos English Charles Lamb Xii
English poem
by Charles Lamb
"In that aguish clime I should catch my death, Being but a raw new comer"-- Quoth he, "We have plenty of fuel stout; And the fires, which I kindle, never go out By winter, nor yet by summer.