A World of Nightmares
O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm, That flies in the night In the howling storm: Has found out thy bed Of...
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O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm, That flies in the night In the howling storm: Has found out thy bed Of...
Oh, that this too, too sullied flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew, Or that the Everlasting had not...