 | Under the dawn |  |
45
A PRAYER.
O broad, sweet death, with tender hands and eyes,Wilt thou not hear, and flutter unto me,
And let me presently awake and see
The summer—and her image in thy skies?
June 20, 1871.
| Under the dawn | |
Wilt thou not hear, and flutter unto me,
And let me presently awake and see
The summer—and her image in thy skies?