George Eliot - Blue Wings

George Eliot - Blue Wings

Warm whisp'ring through the slender olive leaves br Came to me a gentle sound, br Whis'pring of a secret found br In the clear sunshine 'mid the golden sheaves: br br Said it was sleeping for me in the morn, br Called it gladness, called it joy, br Drew me on 'Come hither, boy.' br To where the blue wings rested on the corn.


User: PoemHunter.com

Views: 63

Uploaded: 2014-11-10

Duration: 00:44

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