Up that thin river, going over sand-
Down that deep river, purple to the sun;
My fingers fire; cool your quiet hand,
And your voice sad, and mine the ardent one….
So, silver-thin, the flute-like running river
Threaded the sea-set purple stream; and we
Sat mingling voices solemn and a-quiver
Until we struck the storm-and heard the sea.
(Genevieve Taggard)
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Based on Topics: Sadness Poems, Fire PoemsBased on Keywords: a-quiver, flute-like, storm-and, sea-set, silver-thin