Date: 1912
"Could we deftly lift the curtain / Which the cunning serpent draws, / Like the veil of night about us, / We would find that paradise, / Like a flower in winter, lies / 'Neath the stubbles of our souls."
preview | full record— Beadle, Samuel Alfred (1857-1932)
Date: 1912
"Who does not harbor in his breast / The fruitage of forbidden things / Culled from beauty's lips and heart, / And folded in between the leaves / Of memory's roll of reveries."
preview | full record— Beadle, Samuel Alfred (1857-1932)