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1871–1926

( Easter Morning )

Francis Sherman

She cometh now, with the sun's splendid shine On face and limbs and hair! Ye who are watching, have ye seen so fair A Lady ever as this one is of mine?

Have ye beheld her likeness anywhere? See, as she cometh unrestrained and fleet Past the thrush-haunted trees, How glad the lilies are that touch her knees!

How glad the grasses underneath her feet! And how even I am yet more glad than these!

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( Easter Morning ) · Francis Sherman · Poetry Cove