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Poem by Clinton Scollard The Wind of Mourne The wind of Mourne comes over the hill, Over the hill with a trill of song, And the word of the wind sets my heart athrill,-- "Though life is brief, yet love is long!" I seek my sweet where the roses stir, And the stars overhead are a marching throng, And this is the tale that I tell to her,-- "Though life is brief, yet love is long!" Clinton Scollard Clinton Scollard's other poems: 1188 Views |
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