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A poem by Alfred Noyes |
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To A Successful Man |
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Title: To A Successful Man Author: Alfred Noyes [More Titles by Noyes] (_What the Ghosts Said_)
Strange--is it not?--to find your chief desire You were so rich when fools esteemed you poor. The nook of ferns below the breathless wood You left them for the fame in which you trust. [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |