Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (18691948). The Little Book of Modern Verse. 1917. | | 151. Frost To-Night | | By Edith M. Thomas | | | APPLE-GREEN west and an orange bar, | | And the crystal eye of a lone, one star
| | And, Child, take the shears and cut what you will, | | Frost to-nightso clear and dead-still. | | | Then, I sally forth, half sad, half proud, | 5 | And I come to the velvet, imperial crowd, | | The wine-red, the gold, the crimson, the pied, | | The dahlias that reign by the garden-side. | | | The dahlias I might not touch till to-night! | | A gleam of the shears in the fading light, | 10 | And I gathered them all,the splendid throng, | | And in one great sheaf I bore them along.
. . . . . . | | | In my garden of Life with its all-late flowers | | I heed a Voice in the shrinking hours: | | Frost to-nightso clear and dead-still
| 15 | Half sad, half proud, my arms I fill. | | | |
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