Archibald MacLeish (7 May 1892 – 20 April 1982 / Glencoe, Illinois)
THAT was by the door
Leafy evening in the apple trees
And you would not forget this anymore
And even if you died there would be these
and you would return
From any bourne from any shore
To find the evening in these leaves
To find my arms beside this door...
I think O my not now Ophelia
There are not always (like a moon)
(I think there are
Sometimes a few strange stars upon the sky.)
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