Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff; Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight! " " How they'll greet us ! " — and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay...
A Library of Poetry and Song: Being Choice Selections from the Best Poets - Сторінка 393
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