The Journey
Quick, find me, or for ever miss,
Jay MacPherson
Of Creatures the Net
Of creatures the net and chain
The Martyrs
The sexes walking, now separate and sore,
Of Creatures the Net
Of creatures the net and chain
Time
Time I was a bird in the air
The Journey
Quick, find me, or for ever miss,
The Lovers
Where Venus like a honey-bee
The Natural Mother
All the soft moon bends over,
The Innocents (E.M.)
Bloody, and stained, and with mothers' cries,
The Martyrs
The sexes walking, now separate and sore,
Pages
Current Issue: No. 301
