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1864–1951

IN THE VALES.

Freeman Edwin Miller

When from these vales I go, That slumber on in dreams, O, will the summer winds dance to and fro, And kiss the streams

That play where roses scatter fond perfume And lilies burst with bloom? Glad children of the spring, They moan their music sweet

Where tangled grasses wave, and softly sing Where meadows meet, And wildwood shadows drooping bless The groves with happiness.

Their soothing songs I hear Among the granite hills, Above the elfin warbles rich and clear From rippling rills,

As if they called my soul in future days To wander all their ways. Ah, moaning winds, you seem To fill my musing breast

With lullabies that linger as I dream And bring me rest; For melodies from your low voices creep That soothe my heart with sleep!

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IN THE VALES. · Freeman Edwin Miller · Poetry Cove