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Anthology of Massachusetts Poets

THE STORM

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She reached for sunset fires, And lived with stars and the sea, The mountains for her temple, The storm for priest had she. Together a libation They poured to the God she knew, Such wine as ageless heavens And lonely wisdom brew. Now she has done with worship, For her all rites are the same; Yet the storm keeps green forever The moss upon her name.

G. O. WARREN

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