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Nor wind that wails the year Against your leaning ear, Will alter my delight: That holds the pear upright And sings along the bough, Warms to the mellow sun. The song of my delight Gathers about you now, Is whispered through, and gone. THE SHADOW AND THE REAL There was no more than shadow where She leaned outside the kitchen door, Stood in the sun and let her hair Loosely float in the air and fall. She tossed her body's form before Her feet, and laid it down the wall. And how was I to feel, therefore, Shadow no more than darker air? I rose, and crossed the room, to find Her hands, her body, her green dress; But where she stood, the sun behind Demolished her from touch and sight. Her body burned to emptiness, Her hair caught summer in the light; I sought, bewildered, for her face, No more than splendid air, gone blind. WITCHES WAKEN THE NATURAL WORLD IN SPRING Warm in the underbough of dark Willows is where the women go To whisper how the barren park Will shiver into blossom now. It does not matter they are slim from THE GREEN WALL 29 ...

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