On Swearing
Gallen, P. H.
butterfly lyings Some far off summer day, when you shall see, O'er golden poppy-beds, gay butterflies, Dark-winged, like pirate sails on sunset skies, Perchance soft wings shall flutter...
...butterfly lyings Some far off summer day, when you shall see, O'er golden poppy-beds, gay butterflies, Dark-winged, like pirate sails on sunset skies, Perchance soft wings shall flutter timidly And touch your cheek...
...Louise Crenshaw Ray...
...From long-forgotten springs Shall come a host of tender, vanished charms— Soft fingers on your face, clinging white arms . . . Oh, magic touch of dusky velvet wings...
Vol. 3 • December 1925 • No. 4
