June 13, 1928 THE COMMONWEAL POEMS in the Poplar Qypsy Lament From my window I can see Rain is in the poplar tree. Slanting silver ribbons tie All its branches to the sky. The proud...
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There is a garden waits for me somewhere Across the sea, in islands cool and green. It is a country I have never seen. And yet, in dreams, I breathe its soft, grey air, And feel its white fog...
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