Home › Poetry › Fires of Driftwood › PresenceFires of Driftwoodby Isabel Ecclestone Mackay7 of 98 · Contents · Download EPUBPresence BY a sense of Presence, keenly dear, I, who thought her distant,Knew her near. By an echo that most sweetly woke, I, long keyed to silence,Knew she spoke. By her nearness and the word she said, I, who thought her living,Knew her dead. ‹ PreviousLast SpringNext ›In an Autumn Garden1234567891011121314151617181920212223242526272829303132333435363738394041424344454647484950515253545556575859606162636465666768697071727374757677787980818283848586878889909192939495969798← Back to Fires of Driftwood