VAGRANT VERSE
ATLANTIC. How lonely and lovely those valleys That quivered with silver and gold, And changed in a dream to blue mountains From which snow was up thrown. The sun was white in the heaven, And over the glitter of snow That fell from those hills to those hollows Seven Fires were aglow. For what winged and wonderful creatures •Shall this wide beauty be home? These feet who shall tread on these meadows Must be lighter than foam. When earth is outworn for the spirit, Its body made light by desire, Shall it walk on this glory of waters Ere it climb through the Air to the Fire. —By R. I. E. in The Irish Statesman.
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Bibliographic details
Southland Times, Issue 21192, 19 September 1930, Page 6
Word Count
117VAGRANT VERSE Southland Times, Issue 21192, 19 September 1930, Page 6
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