Mahlon Leonard Fisher

(1874-1974 / United States)

Old Amaze

Mine eyes are filled today with old amaze
   At mountains, and at meadows deftly strewn
   With bits of the gay jewelry of June
And of her splendid vesture; and, agaze,
I stand where Spring her bright brocade of days
   Embroidered o'er, and listen to the flow
   Of sudden runlets -- the faint blasts they blow,
Low, on their stony bugles, in still ways.
For wonders are at one, confederate yet:

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