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Poem by Albert Laighton To T. B. A. The lapse of waters in dim woods; the chime Of distant bells; the rustle of green trees By night winds stirred; the drowsy hum of bees In gardens where the honeysuckles climb; The cricket's carol, voiced in pulse-like time; The symphony of rain-drops on the roof, — All haunted me; yet slumber kept aloof; Until at last, O friend, thy tuneful rhyme Came singing through the dark, as I have heard In autumn twilights, with a glad surprise, The sudden note of some belated bird. Entranced I listened to thy magic strain, Till soon the hovering angel touched my eyes And in sweet dreams I heard the low refrain. Albert Laighton Albert Laighton's other poems: 1591 Views |
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