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1886–1950

XXIV

John Gould Fletcher

O all you stars up yonder, Do you hear me? Beautiful, winking, sullen eyes, I am tired of seeing you in the same old places, Night after night in the sky.

I hoped you would dance — but after twenty-six years, I find you are determined to stay as you are. So I make it known to you, stars clustered or solitary, That I want you to fall into my lap to-night.

Come down, little stars, let me play with you: I will string you like beads, and shovel you together, And wear you in my ears, and scatter you over people — And toss you back, like apples, if I choose.

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XXIV · John Gould Fletcher · Poetry Cove