The Song Of Shadows
"Sweep thy faint strings,
Musician,
With thy long lean hand;
Downward the starry tapers burn,
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"Sweep thy faint strings,
Musician,
With thy long lean hand;
Downward the starry tapers burn,
When daffodils danced in Chuck Hatch, and white
Drew their own shadowy purple across the hills,
Darkening the valley where the small flint
The Saxon built stood roofless to the sun,
The faithless shadows of day are
And high and clear is the call of bells,
Steps of the church are blazed as with the lightning,
Their stones are alive and wait for your light steps
In unexperienced
Many a sweet mistake doth lie:
Mistake though false, intending true;
A seeming somewhat more than view;