Rivers to the Sea by Sara Teasdale
page 56 of 89 (62%)
page 56 of 89 (62%)
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Only the great white moon
In the empty heaven heard. The fountain sang and sang And on the marble rim The milk-white peacocks slept, Their dreams were strange and dim. Bright dew was on the grass, And on the ilex dew, The dreamy milk-white birds Were all a-glisten too. The fountain sang and sang The things one cannot tell, The dreaming peacocks stirred And the gleaming dew-drops fell. THE ROSE BENEATH my chamber window Pierrot was singing, singing; I heard his lute the whole night thru Until the east was red. Alas, alas, Pierrot, I had no rose for flinging Save one that drank my tears for dew |
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