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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.
  Return to “[Little Sam Perkins]” Page Last Revised 5 December 2013
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