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1876–1944

IN PRISON

Helen Hay Whitney

Above her task the long year through She works with steady hands, The while her heart is tired with dreams Which no man understands.

For long and long ago she knew Green trees and open sky, Before the law condemned her days To doom until she die.

And so she dreams in mystic peace, Indifferent to the scene, Because her heart retains and knows The little stain of green.

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IN PRISON · Helen Hay Whitney · Poetry Cove