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1864–1915

ARTHUR S. CRIPPS.

Stephen Phillips

O Summer sun, O moving trees! O cheerful human noise, O busy glittering street! What hour shall Fate in all the future find, Or what delights, ever to equal these:

Only to taste the warmth, the light, the wind, Only to be alive, and feel that life is sweet?

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ARTHUR S. CRIPPS. · Stephen Phillips · Poetry Cove