When I was but a sprig of May,
With wonders to command,
Above all else I loved most well
What none could understand;
And dear were things far-off—far-off, but nothing near at hand.
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Josephine Preston Peabody · Vanguardias / s. XX
inglés
When I was but a sprig of May,
With wonders to command,
Above all else I loved most well
What none could understand;
And dear were things far-off—far-off, but nothing near at hand.
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