Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, WHILES, by MARY DILLINGHAM FREAR



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

WHILES, by                    
First Line: I listen in vain for a voice most sweet
Last Line: For the grass grows under the swing!
Subject(s): Wellesley College


I LISTEN in vain for a voice most sweet
And a laugh with a merry ring:
There's never a glimmer of bare, white feet,
And the grass grows under the swing.

The star-bestrewn hills were so bright with dew!
They are brown. Under brooding wing
Wee birdlings were nestled. They grew and flew;
Ah, the grass grows under the swing!

O stars, illumine my tear-dimmed eyes!
Teach me, O birds, to sing!
Help me, O hills, to be heavenly-wise,
For the grass grows under the swing!





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