IN se’enteen hunder’n forty-nine,
The deil gat stuff to mak a swine,
An’ coost it in a corner;
But wilily he chang’d his plan,
An’ shap’d it something like a man,
An’ ca’d it Andrew Turner.
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Last updated July 13, 2015
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Poetry is the revelation of a feeling that the poet believes to be interior and personal which the reader recognizes as his own.