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Show The Open Sky. Underneath the open sky I would let the world go by, Every shred of harassing Lapsing with the swallow's wlngj Every scrap from care's gray loom Vanishing amid the bloom; Every tissue of regret Fading like the mists that fret Height and hollow, ere the morn In the Orient is born; Every grief, or old, or new, Soothed by God's unchanging blue. And the hush-song of the rill In the shadow of the hill. Where the beech boughs whisper SO Tender, lovingly, and low; Every doubt dispelled and blown Even from the vision-zone By the airs as kind as creep Through the lilied fields of sleep; Every fear transmitted to Hopes blb prismy as the dew, And the old earth-Joy again Flooding soul and heart and brain; Underneath the open sky I would let the world go by! . t-r , ' i j Clinton Scollard In Ainslee's. , ' |