Unwritten Poems Poem by William Winter

Unwritten Poems



FAIRY spirits of the breeze—
Frailer nothing is than these.
Fancies born we know not where—
In the heart or in the air;
Wandering echoes blown unsought
From far crystal peaks of thought;
Shadows, fading at the dawn,
Ghosts of feeling dead and gone:
Alas! Are all fair things that live
Still lovely and still fugitive?

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William Winter

William Winter

the United States
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