A man-child stacks his arms, home from the lists, A tired, sweating, earth-stained manikin, Weighed with the spoils of play, his grimy fists Tight-crammed with the outdoors he has brought in. A...
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September 4, 1929 THE COMMONWEAL 451 POEMS Gifts for a Girl I go to gather gifts for a girl, I can take them in the basket of my heart. From the market of the brook here She...
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