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Poem by Amy Levy June Last June I saw your face three times; Three times I touched your hand; Now, as before, May month is o’er, And June is in the land. O many Junes shall come and go, Flow’r-footed o’er the mead; O many Junes for me, to whom Is length of days decreed. There shall be sunlight, scent of rose; Warm mist of summer rain; Only this change--I shall not look Upon your face again. Amy Levy Amy Levy's other poems: Poems of the other poets with the same name: 1263 Views |
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