The Gleaner Poem by John Bannister Tabb
The Gleaner
Lo, silence, like a roving bee
Upon her daily round,
To fill the hive of memory
Despoils each blossom-sound,
And winters, as the past devours
Whate'er the present yields,
The promise of immortal flowers
For time's unfallowed fields.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
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4/30/2024 6:08:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
