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1882–1932

At the Window

Thomas Samuel Jones

I looked out of my window tall And laughed to see the May, For everything both great and small Was on a holiday.

Then Love came by and laughed at me, And I forgot the Spring — Only I knew the ecstasy Of madly listening.

And now the branches all again Are red with vernal May, But tears have dimmed the window-pane — And no one comes my way.

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At the Window · Thomas Samuel Jones · Poetry Cove