L'édition de cet ISBN n'est malheureusement plus disponible.
This is a reproduction of a book published before 1923. This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process. We believe this work is turally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book.
Les informations fournies dans la section « Synopsis » peuvent faire référence à une autre édition de ce titre.
This book was originally published prior to 1923, and represents a reproduction of an important historical work, maintaining the same format as the original work. While some publishers have opted to apply OCR (optical character recognition) technology to the process, we believe this leads to sub-optimal results (frequent typographical errors, strange characters and confusing formatting) and does not adequately preserve the historical character of the original artifact. We believe this work is culturally important in its original archival form. While we strive to adequately clean and digitally enhance the original work, there are occasionally instances where imperfections such as blurred or missing pages, poor pictures or errant marks may have been introduced due to either the quality of the original work or the scanning process itself. Despite these occasional imperfections, we have brought it back into print as part of our ongoing global book preservation commitment, providing customers with access to the best possible historical reprints. We appreciate your understanding of these occasional imperfections, and sincerely hope you enjoy seeing the book in a format as close as possible to that intended by the original publisher.
I cwe, the first pale buds of spring, Frail blooms that trembled in the lonely dells; Wild violets, mayhap, or nodding bells Gathered when happy birds on joyous wing Fluttered from bough to bough to coo and sing, I brought thee summer roses, such as grow In our own garden ground, and do not know The grace of tenderer culture. Now I bring The early flowers of autumn golden-rod Plucked by the wayside, alters starry-eyed, With here and there, alas! a crimson leaf That dropped, untimely, on the waiting sod. Dear heart! refuse not thou this later sheaf From fields where we have wandered side by side.
(Typographical errors above are due to OCR software and don't occur in the book.)
About the Publisher
Forgotten Books is a publisher of historical writings, such as: Philosophy, Classics, Science, Religion, History, Folklore and Mythology.
Forgotten Books' Classic Reprint Series utilizes the latest technology to regenerate facsimiles of historically important writings. Careful attention has been made to accurately preserve the original format of each page whilst digitally enhancing the aged text. Read books online for free at www.forgottenbooks.org
Les informations fournies dans la section « A propos du livre » peuvent faire référence à une autre édition de ce titre.
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