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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


ON THE STAIR by WILSON PUGSLEY MACDONALD

First Line: WITH PLEASANT RHYTHM BREAKING AT HER HEELS
Last Line: KNOWING THAT STAR WILL NO MORE LIGHT MY SKIES.

WITH pleasant rhythm breaking at her heels
My lady now descends the ample stair:
I cannot see her, but the dark reveals
A lily of pure beauty in her hair.
So white that lily is which she doth wear
That I, who look upon it from afar,
See it descend the midnight-haunted air
As lovely as a slowly falling star.

Mine, mine is she no longer; from that day
Until the gloomy shadows of this hour
I have not felt her arms, her lips, her eyes.
And, lonely now, I walk the woodland's way,
Over the frosty tombs of fern and flower,
Knowing that star will no more light my skies.



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