< Page:The witch-maid & other verses (1914).djvu
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NIGHT ON THE PLAINS
NIGHT ON THE PLAINS
Out on the plain-land at night
There is no sound, not a sigh,
And nothing is moving now
But scornful stars in the sky:
The night is too great for my heart,
It flutters and halts and trips;
The terrible mirth of the stars
Has slain my song on my lips.
Australia.
24
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