PoemPermanent catalogue Work

The Feud

1textual state3Characters
Category
Historical and Observational
SectionUntitled Drafts

Opening lines

He did not glance above the trail to the laurel where I layAs he rode down to Lincoln town to swear my life away.He did not look till my rifle cracked as the deathly ball I sped.Then he clutched his beard as the mustang reared and fell from the

Textual states

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Characters in this Work

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Publication appearances