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1882–1935

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Frederic Manning

The wind is still And the night full of sighs. Hast thou drunk thy fill Of mine eyes?

Yea, of thine eyes; But my heart is a-thirst For what stirred first, Like a light in the skies

Like a light that flows Over barriers: It has come and it goes, Love full of tears.

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PAST · Frederic Manning · Poetry Cove