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By Edith Wharton 12 Sep, 2019
Excerpt..... O soft, caressing sound, more sweet than scent Of violets in woody hollows! Tone As amorous as the ring-dove’s tender moan, Beneath the spreading forest’s leafy tent; What mystery of earth or air hath lent, Thee that bewitchi ... Read more
Excerpt..... O soft, caressing sound, more sweet than scent Of violets in woody hollows! Tone As amorous as the ring-dove’s tender moan, Beneath the spreading forest’s leafy tent; What mystery of earth or air hath lent, Thee that bewitching music, where the drone, Of Summer bees in dewy buds new blown, With trembling, fainting melody is blent? What master did conceive thee, as the sound, Most fit to woo his lady from her rest, What wakeful maiden in thy wooing found, The passion of her lover first exprest, And from her silken pillows, beauty-crowned, Stept forth and smiled on him who loved her best? Less
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  • 366.558 KB
  • 30
  • Public Domain Books
  • English
  • 978-1979390828
Edith Wharton (Jan 24, 1862 – Aug 11, 1937) was an American novelist, short story writer, and designer. Wharton drew upon her insider's knowledge of the upper-class New York "aristocracy" to realist...
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