Westward Poem by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward
Westward
My thoughts like waves creep up, creep on,
How patient is the sea!
How shall we climb-the tide and I-
Up to the hills and thee?
Were waters free as winds, to go
Where mood or need might be,
They could but find the sky, above
The cañon as the sea.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
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9/19/2024 2:32:53 PM # 1.0.0.1119
