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Show WESTERN BLOOD. BT JULIET WILBOR TOMPKINS. My tower faces south and north. And east it opens wide. But not a window-pane looks forth Upon tha western side. - - 1 gate out north on city rods. And south on city smoke. And to the east are throbbing hoofs. The rush of city folk. But not a ray of western light May fall across my work. No crevice opens to the night Where western eyes may lurk: . . ' . . - - . My crowded days are spent in quest Of t-ager city things. And when the little birds fly west, i would not hear their wings..'. But they who once have climbed the Town' ' When daylight lingered late, And watched tha western sun go dpwn Athwart the burnished date.' And felt the rolling fogs descend. And seen the lupin blown (And known what things a western friend - May offer to his- own). Ah, they can never still, for long, He knew what would be best Who built my tewer high and Btrong, And closed it to the westi . - 1 . . ; In January Scribncr's Magaxlne. S ,, ' |