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Show CONVALESCENT. By ADA FOSTER. MURRAY. Thou hast come back from deserts vast and wild, From the twilight wanderings by a shadowy sea, From the far glory of the Undefined Thou hast come back to home and love and me. Though heavenly meadows stretched before thy gaze, Thick flecked with amarantha and asphodel; Though angels tended thee, and all thy days Were palpitant with music as a bell. Yet wouldst thou choose these low, cloud shadowed shad-owed -skies These tranquil hours with my hand in thine, Gazing forever Into answering eyes: H What sphere could be thy heaven that was not H mine? H |