Poems by Gertrude Bartlett
Ballade Of Tristram's Last Harping
... What joy hath now the true knight of his Queen ...
Ballade Of Barren Roses
... Their scarlet fruit through drear autumnal rain ...
Put By The Flute
... Down that bright stream, whose brim we twain ...
The Gunners
... and here, In that cause, dead, unvanquished, we prevail ...
