Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/209

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190
I WOULD HAVE WEPT


Still the flower and tree 'neath the son
Unfolded their buds to bloom;
And the fly, clad in sombre grey,
Danced over the faint perfume.

And the sun coming forth from a cloud
Shone fair on a smiling land.
I said: Hush, questioning heart;
'Tis you cannot understand.

190