Poems by Marie E J Pitt
Ballad of Autumn
... To the troops that trip it with silent tread, &emsp ...
A Gallop of Fire
... Yea, the South wind sobs among the drowned creek courses ...
Hamilton
... Thro the years that sunder us the dead come back, come back, &emsp ...
Evil
... That Wrongs rude whips from them be turned aside, &emsp ...
