English poem
Xxxii
To him the daily hymns they raise: His tastes are sought: his will is done: He sniffs the putrid steam of praise, Place for true England here is none!
Versos English George Meredith Xxxii
Versos English George Meredith Xxxii
English poem
To him the daily hymns they raise: His tastes are sought: his will is done: He sniffs the putrid steam of praise, Place for true England here is none!