Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ANITA, by FREDERICK STANLEY CAMP

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ANITA, by            
First Line: All in solitude and silence
Last Line: Does she ever think of me?
Subject(s): Absence

ALL in solitude and silence,
By the old boat on the strand,
With the sky and sea above her
Circling like a turquoise band,
And the yellow sun of autumn
Weaving gold lace of her hair,
Gazing wistfully to seaward,
Sits Anita, sweet and fair.

With her parasol is toying
Her petite and slender hand.
Is she hearing from the ocean
Tales borne from a foreign land?
Are her placid thoughts a-wand'ring
Like the sailing thistle-down
With an artless, aimless freedom
Till within the sea they drown?

Is she sorry that the season
Has so fleetly slipped away?
Does she think of other seasons
Just as happy, just as gay?
As she tears a stately aster,
Resting lightly on her knee,
Gazing wistfully to seaward,
Does she ever think of me?

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