On The Jellico-spur
TO MY FRIEND, JOHN FOX, JR. You remember, the deep mist,-- Climbing to the Devil's Den-- Blue beneath us in the glen And above us amethyst, Throbbed and circled and away Thro' the wild-woods opposite, Torn and shattered, morning-lit, Scurried up a dewy gray. Vague as in Romance we saw...
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