This page has been validated.
172
Anne Spencer
But I can wait the seven of moons,
Or years I spare,
Hoarding the hearths plenty, nor spend
A drop, nor share—
So long but outlives a smile and
A silken gown;
Then gaily I reach up from my shroud,
And you, glory-clad, reach down.
Or years I spare,
Hoarding the hearths plenty, nor spend
A drop, nor share—
So long but outlives a smile and
A silken gown;
Then gaily I reach up from my shroud,
And you, glory-clad, reach down.