VAGRANT VERSE
SHE ANSWERS THE LETTER. When I shall hear you coming on the stair, Step after step ascending to my door Set wide for welcome, even as before— When I shall turn and see you standing there, The April sunlight lying on your hair— When you come in and walk upon my floor, Nothing will ever matter any more. Let gray November fall. I shall not care. Here is a fire, brave wine and goodly bread, And our sweet row of books along the wall; And here is love awaiting love, that all Our hungers may be fully comforted. And I will loose the twilight of my hair. When I shall hear you coming on the stair. —By Barbara Young in the N.Y. Times.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ST19300522.2.31
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Southland Times, Issue 21089, 22 May 1930, Page 4
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125VAGRANT VERSE Southland Times, Issue 21089, 22 May 1930, Page 4
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