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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


THREE SONGS: 3 by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON

First Line: THOU SENTEST THEM AN ANGEL, LORD
Last Line: TO WEARY OF OUR BEST DELIGHT.

Thou sentest them an angel, Lord,
Since they were precious in Thine eyes,
An angel with a flaming sword,
To drive them out of Paradise.

For thus they kept the dream of bliss,
The hope in something out of sight,
Nor ever knew how sad it is
To weary of our best delight.



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