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Poem by Clinton Scollard


Etching at Night


I wandered in the streets of Galway-town,
When night had let her dusky curtains down,
And in a doorway, tall and fair and slight,
Framed by an inner beam of golden light,
Beheld a maiden of madonna face,
Pensive and sad, yet with a nameless grace,
Presage, I thought, of the unfolding years,
That hide some things that are too deep for tears!



Clinton Scollard


Clinton Scollard's other poems:
  1. The Spectral Rowers
  2. Muckross
  3. The Cripple
  4. The Tides
  5. A Sea Rover


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