Oft have I heard thine accents steal,
Like music on the air,
Then quickly turned to see thy form,
Sweet Mary! standing there.
But thou did’st ever glide away,
Nor heed my pleading prayer–
But now, alas! thou’rt but a Thought,
A phantom like the air.
(James Avis Bartley)
More Poetry from James Avis Bartley:
James Avis Bartley Poems based on Topics: Mind, Thought & Thinking- Pocahontas (James Avis Bartley Poems)
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