Monday, March 3, 2014

Song Of Poplars Comments

Rating: 2.5

Shepherd, to yon tall poplars tune your flute:
Let them pierce, keenly, subtly shrill,
The slow blue rumour of the hill;
Let the grass cry with an anguish of evening gold,
And the great sky be mute.
...
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Aldous Huxley
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Aldous Huxley

Aldous Huxley

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