Faeo Lyre Clive
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Faeo Lyre Clive Poems
This lifeless vale of lying bones and skulls houses no one, or days that we have had but shall have us in court as the sort calls.
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
This lifeless vale of lying bones and skulls
houses no one, or days that we have had
but shall have us in court as the sort calls.
It is the grim reaper's with a large scythe,
argus-eyed, clothed in a black cloak, with
a hood; although many painters say lithe.
Empty gourds with a parrot's egg in each,
he would open, snipping a thread. I bruit,
this bridge of asses widely borne eldritch.
Now, promise me that you will be alright.
'tis, here, walking the path over the orbs
with limbs flung wide as in a windy flight.
Ay! It is a toy horse ...