Twice a week the winter thorough Here stood I to keep the goal: Football then was fighting sorrow For the young man’s soul. . Now in Maytime to the wicket Out I march with bat and pad: See the son of grief at cricket Trying to be glad. . Try I will; no harm in […]
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The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And, sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; . Then took the other, just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, […]
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