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In the Seven Woods
| I have heard the pigeons of the Seven Woods | | Make their faint thunder, and the garden bees | | Hum in the
lime-tree flowers; and put away | | The unavailing outcries and the old bitterness | | That empty the heart. I
have forgot awhile | | Tara uprooted, and new commonness | | Upon the throne and crying about the streets | | And hanging its paper flowers from post to post, | | Because it is alone of all things happy. | | I am contented,
for I know that Quiet | | Wanders laughing and eating her wild heart | | Among pigeons and bees, while that
Great Archer, | | Who but awaits His hour to shoot, still hangs | | A cloudy quiver over Parc-na-lee. | | August
1902 |
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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