Broken Rhythms.That knows no measured beat, Sweeping the forest of myself With trampling feet. Knowing a moment's rest, Then taunting a writhing tree. O You, Who bade the waves be calm, Quiet me! __Whitelaw Saunders |
Contemporary Kansas Poetry
Helen Rhoda Hoopes
page 102
(Kansas City: Joseph D. Havens Company. 1927)
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