Cox, Palmer, 1840-1924 · New York, The Century co · leaf 73
If fogs were not so often spreadTo keep one moving round in dread.Last night for hours I groped astrayIn streets where best I know my way;T is hard to go when brightest lightIs in a fog extinguished quite,From door to door, from stone to stone,To work your way by touch alone. All native tact for… … PALVCt COX. Ran twice against a watchmans legsWho lay asleep upon some kegs. THE BROWNIES IN ENGLAND.
Children's poetry
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