Category: Poem by Robert H. Hardoen
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From the archives: a poem by Robert H. Hardoen (Sept. 6, 1895 – Dec. 4, 1958)
The Black Chemist To His Love. Last night I read a quaint old book, Of dreamy ancient lore, In which some far off Magi claimed That we had lived before. And then I slept and sleeping dreamed ‘Mid strains of Minstrel lyre, I saw the curtained centuries Withdrawn by hands of fire. An epic age…
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