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 With all their shining play of leaves And London like a silver bride, That will not put her veil aside!

Proud London like a painted Queen, Whose crown is heavy on her head City of sorrow and desire, Under a sky of opal fire, Amber and amethyst and red And how divine the day has been! For every dawn God builds again This world of beauty and of pain

Wild heart that hungers for delight, Imprisoned here against your will; Sad heart, so eager to be gay! Loving earth's lovely things the play Of wind and leaves on Primrose Hill Or London dreaming of the night Adventurous heart, on beauty bent, That only Heaven could quite content!

TWILIGHT

Spirit of Twilight, through your folded wings I catch a glimpse of your averted face, And rapturous on a sudden, my soul sings "Is not this common earth a holy place?"