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 :::THE POPLAR-LEAVES

HY do they, all of them, lean one way. The poplar-leaves of your heart's sad tree? Why do they shiver and tremble so    When the wild sea-winds have ceased to blow And the wild sea-swallows have flown away From the edge of the bitter and lonely sea? If I call them to me from over the hill — The other swallows — the swallows that fly O'er the cool, fresh streams of a clearer sky — Would those leaves lean the same way still?

Ah! they must all of them lean one way Whatever wind the other follows, However swiftly fly the swallows; For the sea-born can only the sea obey.

But if from the sea itself should blow — From the sea itself, from the lonely sea, A strange new wind; then I should know, — And — perhaps — those leaves would turn to me!