English poem
Cxiii
by Walter Crane (1863–1929)
Yet high the feast-tide rolled, and those who fell Few missed, nor empty long their place did dwell, For great the press is at earth’s table round, And still new streams that company doth swell.
Versos English Walter Crane Cxiii
English poem
by Walter Crane (1863–1929)
Yet high the feast-tide rolled, and those who fell Few missed, nor empty long their place did dwell, For great the press is at earth’s table round, And still new streams that company doth swell.