Friends  21814

  • Poem
  • by
  • first line:
    Now I must these three praise – / Three women that have wrought
  • Language:

Locations in Harold's Library

Array
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    [_edit_lock] => Array
        (
            [0] => 1522709213:1
        )

    [_edit_last] => Array
        (
            [0] => 1
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            [0] => "21812"*p2
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    [firstline] => Array
        (
            [0] => Now I must these three praise – / Three women that have wrought / What joy is in my days: / One because no thought, / Nor those unpassing cares, / No, not in these fifteen / Many-times-troubled years, / Could ever come between / Mind and delighted mind;
        )

)

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