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poet

Edith Matilda Thomas

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poem
I know it must be winter (though I sleep)—  
I know it must be winter, for I dream  
I dip my bare feet in the running stream,  
And flowers are many, and the grass grows deep.  
  
I know I must be old (how age deceives!)
I know I must be old, for, all unseen,  
My heart grows young, as autumn fields grow green