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From the Evening Public Ledger, June 17, 1915. By Edith Ives Woodworth.


She came across the shining hill
    Adown a golden lea,
Love lightened in her dewy eyes,
    Love piped a melody.

Love led her to a silver space
    Beneath a gray-leaved tree;
Dear Heaven! the wind tossed in her hair,
    The sunlight touched her knee.

Ah, unforgotten morn of gold,
    O river running free,
I thrilled to see her foam-white foot
    When my love came to me.


Night broods upon the gray-leaved bough
    Around the shadowed door,
O dark is yon unlighted hill
    And dull the reedy shore.

Nor will she pass upon the plain
    As once she passed before,
Nor evermore her foam-white foot,
    My starry love of yore.

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