Rivers to the Sea by Sara Teasdale
page 55 of 89 (61%)
page 55 of 89 (61%)
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All your luminous delight
Shines before me in the night When I grope for sleep and find Only shadows in my mind. Rose, when I remember you, White and glowing, pink and new, With so swift a sense of fun Altho' life has just begun; With so sure a pride of place In your very infant face, I should like to make a prayer To the angels in the air: "If an angel ever brings Me a baby in her wings, Please be certain that it grows Very, very much like Rose." THE FOUNTAIN On in the deep blue night The fountain sang alone; It sang to the drowsy heart Of the satyr carved in stone. The fountain sang and sang But the satyr never stirred-- |
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