James Thomson - An Elegy Upon James Therburn, In Chatto
Published : 2014-11-10 - Duration : 01:47 - View : 2
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Now, Chatto, you're a dreary place, Pale sorrow broods on ilka face; Therburn has run his race. And now, and now, ah me, alas! The carl lies dead. Having his paternoster said, He took a dram and went to bed; He fell asleep, and death was glad That he had catched him; For Therburn was e'en ill bested, That none did watch him. For had the carl but...

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