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Love Song

ISSUE:  Winter 1930

Knowing i cannot fetter flood
Or flame; or hold away from bud
And bloom the frost’s white war, his trace
Of pale destruction; knowing to place
In leash the wind’s swift silver hounds Requires more power than abounds
Within these hands, or ever to grasp
A bird’s sudden shadow in their clasp . . .
Then why do I try, being powerless,
To bind in song your loveliness?


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