Harriet Monroe

Harriet Monroe

1,000 карма
United Kingdom (Great Britain)

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O Love, my love, it's over then—Your heart flies free;
And it's now no more us two again,
The door on you and me
And it's now no more the supper spread,
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Dear Wanderer— The sky is gray,
With flecks of blue The clouds rush over
A bird is singing Far away,
And butterflies Taste of the clover
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EN sunshine met the wave,  Then love was born;
Then Venus rose to save  A world forlorn
For light a thousand wings          Of joy unfurled,
And bound with golden rings  The icy world
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I See the snow-drops flutter Their white wings in the gale
I hear the robin utter On high his gallant tale
Look where the rash wind chases With clouds the climbing sun
The day makes merry faces— Gaily her gray steeds run
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Bluer than Helen's eyes she lies Under the blue cloud-drifting skies;
A daughter fair of light and air Dropped among warrior mountains there
White glaciers kiss her feet so fleet— Oh fugitive, too rare and sweet
Will she not fling t...
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II
VE my life, but not too well To give it to thee like a flower,
So it may pleasure thee to dwell Deep in its perfume but an hour
I love my life, but not too well
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Flowers grow in the grass,
Baby footfalls pass Over the fields once red,
Over the hero's head— For Peace
The earth, through her leafy veil,
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