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1861–1929

LXXXIV

Bliss Carman

Soft was the wind in the beech-trees; Low was the surf on the shore; In the blue dusk one planet Like a great sea-pharos shone.

But nothing to me were the sea-sounds, The wind and the yellow star, When over my breast the banner Of your golden hair was spread.

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LXXXIV · Bliss Carman · Poetry Cove