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The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | ||
VI.
And then the great Wind fell away, and soI felt that I was whirling down and down,
Past Trees that strove, with branches bare and brown,
To catch me as I fell; and all they cried,—
“She will be buried in the cold, deep snow;
Ah, would she had like other Roses died!”
Then, as I thought to fall, I woke to find
The cool rain dropping on me, and the Wind
Singing a rainy song among the Trees,
Wherein the birds were building at their ease.
The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | ||