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Read by Dominic West
The old brown thorn-trees break in two high over Cummen Strand, Under a bitter black wind that blows from the left hand;…
[excerpt] V While yet a boy I sought for ghosts, and sped Through many a listening chamber, cave and ruin, And starlight…
I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain – and back in rain. I have outwalked…
Fear death? – to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts…