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Poem by Richard Watson Gilder The New Day. Part 3. 19. Thistle-Down Fly, thistle-down, fly From my lips to the lips that I love! Fly through the morning light, Flee through the shadowy night, Over the sea and the land, Quick as the lark Through twilight and dark, Through lightning and thunder; Till no longer asunder We stand; For thy touch like the lips of her lover Moves her being to mine— We are one in a swoon divine! Fly, thistle-down, fly From my lips to the lips that I love! Richard Watson Gilder Richard Watson Gilder's other poems:
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