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Poem by Arthur William Symons To a Grey Dress There's a flutter of grey through the trees: Ah, the exquisite curves of her dress as she passes Fleet with her feet on the path where the grass is! I see not her face, I but see The swift re-appearance, the flitting persistence— There!—of that flutter of grey in the distance. It has flickered and fluttered away: What a teasing regret she has left in my day-dream, And what dreams of delight are the dreams that one may dream! It was only a flutter of grey; But the vaguest of raiment's impossible chances Has set my heart beating the way of old dances. Arthur William Symons Arthur William Symons's other poems:
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