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Helen Gray Cone

A Memory

Though pent in stony streets, ’tis joy to know,
’Tis joy, although we breathe a fainter air,
The spirit of those places far and fair
That we have loved, abides; and fern-scents flow
Out of the wood’s heart still, and shadows grow
Long on remembered roads as warm days wear;
And still the dark wild water, in its lair,
The narrow chasm, stirs blindly to and fro.

Delight is in the sea-gull’s dancing wings,
And sunshine wakes to rose the ruddy hue
Of rocks; and from her tall wind-slanted stem
A soft bright plume the goldenrod outflings
Along the breeze, above a sea whose blue
Is like the light that kindles through a gem.

About the poet
Helen Gray Cone
 
By the same poet
The Common Street
A Fairy Tale
The Arrowmaker
The Dandelions
Kinship
 
Related books
Helen Gray Cone at amazon.co.uk

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