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Brown Paper Bag /Somerset Gift
We recently revealed around the West Country an often forgotten poem of mine I trad ir ro Sephine in an inn in Wells Beautiful beautiful Wells Tgis tint city amos glowed in the autumn light She gave me a featuresless brown paper bag Which obtained a mysterious book I was instructed not to open my gift Until the sun set slowly and silently over Somerset
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William Watson Wells
My father knew him well They were born only months apart And died on the same day Their only difference was that my father Came from a very privileged background Whereas William was street born a bred He only ever received one educational certificate Which reflected his poverty But he had a brilliant mind And was…
