| Louis Untermeyer, ed. (18851977). Modern American Poetry. 1919. |
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| Lizette Woodworth Reese. 1856 |
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| 18. Wise |
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| AN apple orchard smells like wine; | |
| A succory flower is blue; | |
| Until Grief touched these eyes of mine, | |
| Such things I never knew. | |
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| And now indeed I know so plain | 5 |
| Why one would like to cry | |
| When spouts are full of April rain | |
| Such lonely folk go by! | |
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| So wise, so wisethat my tears fall | |
| Each breaking of the dawn; | 10 |
| That I do long to tell you all | |
| But you are dead and gone. | |
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