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1862–1900

Caught.

Thomas Winthrop Hall

When Phyllis turned her eyes on me I blushed and hesitated; For though on terms familiar, we Were not at all related.

I felt her mild, reproachful glance, And knew her words would rankle. To tell the truth, I had, by chance, Been looking at her ankle.

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Caught. · Thomas Winthrop Hall · Poetry Cove