Poem by Lesbia Harford

* * *

You, whom the grave cannot bind,
Shall a song hold you?
Still you escape from the mesh
Spun to enfold you.
Your woven texture of flesh
Short time confined you.
Sib to the sun and the wind,
Shall a song bind you?

1. White Sunshine
2. How funny it would be if dreamy I
3. Tall trees along the road
4. The Folk I Love
5. Suburban Dames

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