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Poem by Edgar Lee Masters Jennie M’Grew Not, where the stairway turns in the dark, A hooded figure, shriveled under a flowing cloak! Not yellow eyes in the room at night, Staring out from a surface of cobweb gray! And not the flap of a condor wing, When the roar of life in your ears begins As a sound heard never before! But on a sunny afternoon, By a country road, Where purple rag-weeds bloom along a straggling fence, And the field is gleaned, and the air is still, To see against the sun-light something black, Like a blot with an iris rim -- That is the sign to eyes of second sight.... And that I saw! Edgar Lee Masters Edgar Lee Masters's other poems: 1216 Views |
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