Outcast, An
Pursued across the waning year,
By winds that chase with lifted spear,
A leaf, blood-stained, fell spent at last
Upon my bosom, poor Outcast!
Pursued across the waning year,
By winds that chase with lifted spear,
A leaf, blood-stained, fell spent at last
Upon my bosom, poor Outcast!
By winds that chase with lifted spear,
A leaf, blood-stained, fell spent at last
Upon my bosom, poor Outcast!
Pursued across the waning year,
By winds that chase with lifted spear,
A leaf, blood-stained, fell spent at last
Upon my bosom, poor Outcast!
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