David Morton

(1886-1957 / United States)

In A Girls School

These walls will not forget, through later days,
How they had bloomed with lifted, tossing heads
Of swaying girls who thronged these ordered ways,
Like windy tulips blowing in their beds.
They will remember laughter down a hall,
And eyes more bright than blossoms in the grass-
A dream to haunt them, after all and all,
When they are dead with dusty things that pass.

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