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1858–1924

SONG.

Edith Nesbit

THE summer down the garden walks Swept in her garments bright; She touched the pale still lily stalks And crowned them with delight;

She breathed upon the rose's head And filled its heart with fire, And with a golden carpet spread The path of my desire.

The larkspurs stood like sentinels To greet her as she came, Soft rang the Canterbury bells The music of her name.

She passed across the happy land Where all dear dreams flower free; She took my true love by the hand And led her out to me.

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SONG. · Edith Nesbit · Poetry Cove