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Songs
of the Common Day, and Ave!
An
Ode for the Shelley Centenary
by
Charles G.D. Roberts
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IN
SEPTEMBER
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THIS
windy, bright September afternoon
My heart is wide awake,
yet full of dreams.
The air, alive with
hushed confusion, teems
With scent of grain-fields, and a mystic rune,
Foreboding of the fall of Summer soon,
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Keeps swelling and
subsiding; till there seems
O'er all the world
of valleys, hills, and streams,
Only the wind's inexplicable tune.
My
heart is full of dreams, yet wide awake.
I lie and watch
the topmost tossing boughs |
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Of
tall elms, pale against the vaulted blue;
But even now some yellowing branches shake,
Some hue of death
the living green endows:—
If beauty flies, fain
would I vanish too. |
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