THE
SPELL
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I
hung a string of verses
Against my cabin wall.
What think you was the fortune
They prayed might me befall?
Not
fame nor health nor riches
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5 |
To
tarry at my door,
But that my vanished sweetheart
Might visit me once more.
Out
of the moted day-dream
Among the boding firs,
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10 |
They
prayed she might remember
The lover that was hers.
They
prayed the gates of silence
A moment might unclose,
The hour before the hill-crest
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15 |
Is
flushed with solemn rose.
O
prayers of mortal longing,
What latch can ye undo?
What comrade once departed
Ever returned for you?
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20 |
All day with tranquil spirit
I kept my cabin door,
In wonder at the beauties
I had not seen before.
I
slept the dreamless slumber
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25 |
Of happiness
again;
And when I woke, the thrushes
Were singing in the rain. |
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