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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
PERDITA, by MARIAN STORM First Line: Lie on my heart and rest. Brown ferns are waving Last Line: "she is not ours. She is not even dead." | |||
Lie on my heart and rest. Brown ferns are waving Over this elfin woodland of the moss. Come from the path where the long sleepy sunbeams Cross and recross. Ah, I have saved so many things to show you -- A little bath behind the waterfall, A deer that comes to call on me at twilight, Clearing the wall. There's an old log with puffballs almost ripened, A grapevine that I'll give you for a swing, A hollow tree all furnished for the winter, A mirror spring. Over the corn the fireflies went dancing: I said, "She would laugh at them -- my dear." If the whole swamp shuddered at the screech-owl: "She would not fear." Wait, there is more -- I have a story for you -- I have a dress of red leaves -- Only stay! My arm is curved. It is a cruel hour To slip away. And you will lose yourself in echoing caverns That open off that lustrous way of space; The monster hurrying winds will strike ungently Your wild-rose face. Put down your head. Why, nothing bends and beckons. They may have come, but this is all they said, Leaving you here, O promise of a flower, "She is not ours. She is not even dead." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRING IN ORIZABA by MARIAN STORM THE BURNING BUSH by MARIAN STORM THE DANCING FERN by MARIAN STORM TWO POEMS FROM THE WAR: 1 by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH THE SONG FOR COLIN by SARA TEASDALE SLEEP by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH CARRION COMFORT by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE BALLAD OF BOUILLABAISSE by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY EYE-SHAPED, MOUTH-SHAPED by MARGARET AHO T.T. IN COMMENDATION OF THE AUTHOR HIS WORKE by RICHARD BARNFIELD |
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