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[Little Sam Perkins]
By H. P. Lovecraft
The ancient garden seems tonight
A deeper gloom to bear,
As if some silent shadow’s blight
Were hov’ing in the air.
With hidden griefs the grasses sway,
Unable quite to word them—
Remembering from yesterday
The little paws that stirr’d them.
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This page last revised 5 December 2013.
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