Page:Curtains - Hall.djvu/19

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FRAMES

Brown window-sill, you hold my all of skies, And all I know of springing year and fall, And everything of earth that greets my eyes—Brown window-sill, how can you hold it all?
Grey walls, my days are bound within your hold, Cast there and lost like pebbles in a sea; And all my thought is squared to fit your mould—Grey wall, how mighty is your masonry!

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