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Show THE FRACTURED DREAM. By A. K. N. Bliss opalescent now the Springtime poet feels, From traffic's tumult free and urban snares; A Lethean peace through all his senses steals To far-off summerlands his fancy fares; At Love's delirious fountains quaffs he long and deep And fauns all fairy fingered, guard him in his i sleep. I Thus sleeps he on, and to his rapturous heart j The chimes of Arcady are wafted low; -j But suddenly with unpoetic start He wakes beside his desk-lamp's meagre glow. And high and shrill above the reportorial din He hears a shout, "Wake up, and get that copy in." Gone are the fanes and fairies as he turns To where his Springtime poem ho began; Again at warring rhymes he tugs and churns And leaps on Spring as only poets can: For Spring lays must be written soaring sonnets son-nets Whether the theme's Spring chickens or Spring bonnets. |