COMING AWAKEWHEN I woke, the lake-lights were quivering on thewall, The sunshine swam in a shoal across and across, And a hairy, big bee hung over the primulasIn the window, his body black fur, and the soundof him cross.There was something I ought to remember: andyetI did not remember. Why should I? The running lightsAnd the airy primulas, obliviousOf the impending bee-they were fair enoughsights.FROM A COLLEGE WINDOWTHE glimmer of the limes, sun-heavy,...
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