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Madeline Post by :goodthng Category :Poems Author :Edgar Lee Masters Date :November 2011 Read :915

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I almost heard your little heart
Begin to beat, and since that hour
Your life has grown apace and blossomed,
Fed by the same miraculous power,

That moved the rivulet of your life,
And made your heart begin to beat.
Now all day your steps are a-patter.
Oh, what swift and musical feet!

You sleep. I wait to see you wake,
With wonder-eyes and hands that reach.
I laugh to hear your thoughts that gather
Too fast on your budding lips for speech.

Your sunny hair is cut as if
'Twere trimmed around a yellow crock.
How gay the ribbon, and oh, how cunning
The flaring skirt of the little frock!

You build and play and search and pry,
And hunt for dolls and forgotten toys.
Why do you never tire of playing,
Or cease from mischief, or cease from noise?

You will not sleep? You are tired of the house?
You are just as naughty as you can be.
Madeline, Madeline, come to the garden,
And play with Marcia under the tree!

(The end)
Edgar Lee Masters's poem: Madeline

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Marcia Marcia

Madeline's hair is straight and yours Is just as curly as tendril vines; And she is fair, but a deeper color Your cheeks of olive incarnadines. A serious wisdom burns and glows Steadily in your dark-eyed look. Already a wit and a little stoic-- Perhaps you are going to write a book, Or paint a picture, or sing or act The part of Katherine or Juliet. I believe you were born with the gift of knowing When to remember and when to forget. And when to stifle and kill

Terminus Terminus

Terminus shows the ways and says, "All things must have an end." Oh, bitter thought we hid away When first you were my friend. We hid it in the darkest place Our hearts had place to hide, And took the sweet as from a spring Whose waters would abide. For neither life nor the wide world Has greater store than this:-- The thought that runs through hands and eyes And fills the silences. There is a void the agéd world Throws over the spent heart; When Life