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Fires of Driftwood

by Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

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Glamour

THE knowledge of love
Is like sudden sun upon a river—
The slipping water
Is instantly opaque and glorious.
No longer can we look into it
Counting the pebbles,
Watching the ribboned water-reeds,
Or searching idly
For that something which we lost
(A ring with gems)
It is all glamour, now!
We turn away, shading our eyes.

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