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First Line: The path to the woods where the leaves lie dead
Last Line: Far stretch of relentless sky, -- and you!
Subject(s): Memory


The path to the woods where the leaves lie dead
And the stumps still stand that time has hollowed;
Where many a luring smile has led
And many an eager foot has followed; --
It draws me still as of old it drew,
And I long for those vanished days, -- and you.

The drip from the spring on the damp green moss,
The violets in royal purple dresses;
A sense of ineffable, mystical loss,
Of you, with the April sun in your tresses.
But December's here, and above is the blue
Far stretch of relentless sky, -- and you!





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