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The Recluse
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The Recluse

Maria Elmendorf Lillie

Jul 22
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The Recluse
www.deadpoetsdaily.com
As evening creeps within the sheltered glade,
Trees turn to emerald, water to jade;
And on a branch a milk-white heron sits,
With drooping wings, silent and unafraid:
Like a great truth, within the gathering night,
Whose faint reflection streaks the depths with light.

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The Recluse
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