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A Vagabond Song. by. Bliss Carman. Next. There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood—. Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like a rhyme, With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time. The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry.
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Rhona Aitken (1925 - 2018) lived all over the world during...
- My Friend, The Thesaurus by Rhona Aitken
A Vagabond Song. There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood— Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like a rhyme, With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time. The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry. Of bugles going by. And my lonely spirit thrills.
Updated September 23, 2019 | Infoplease Staff. A Vagabond Song. Bliss Carman. There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood — Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like a rhyme, With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time. The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry. Of bugles going by.
A Vagabond Song. by Bliss William Carman. There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood—. Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like a rhyme, With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time. The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry. Of bugles going by.
Oct 27, 2023 · The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry Of bugles going by. And my lonely spirit thrills To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills. There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir; We must rise and follow her, When from every hill of flame She calls and calls each vagabond by name.
Bliss Carman. A Vagabond Song. There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood’ . Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like a rhyme, With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time. The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry. Of bugles going by. And my lonely spirit thrills.
Bliss Carman. A Vagabond Song. There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood’ . Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like a rhyme, With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time. The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry. Of bugles going by.
