My mind is very swift and gay;
She flutters to and fro,
She knows a thousand things to play,
A thousand roads to go;
But oh, my heart will never play--
She sits and watches still
A stone she saw them set one day
Beside a low green hill.
Back to Margaret Widdemer
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓
To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.