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Poem by Hamlin Garland


Magic


Within my hand I hold
A piece of lichen-spotted stone
Each fleck red-gold
And with closed eyes I hear the moan
Of solemn winds round naked crags
Of Colorado's mountains. The snow
Lies deep about me. Gray and old
Hags of cedars, gaunt and bare,
With streaming, tangled hair,
Snarl endlessly. White-winged and proud,
With stately step and queenly air,
A glittering, cool and silent cloud
    Upon me sails.
    The wind wails,
And from the canon stern and steep
I hear the furious waters leap.



Hamlin Garland


Hamlin Garland's other poems:
  1. In August
  2. The Ute Lover
  3. The Herald Crane
  4. The Meadow Lark
  5. Pioneers


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