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Poem by Christopher Morley

Reading Aloud

ONCE we read Tennyson aloud
    In our great fireside chair; 
Between the lines my lips could touch
    Her April-scented hair.

How very fond I was, to think
    The printed poems fair, 
When close within my arms I held
    A living lyric there!

Christopher Morley

Christopher Morley's other poems:
  1. The Wakeful Husband
  2. The Young Mother
  3. Mar Quong, Chinese Laundryman
  4. The Cedar Chest
  5. Light Verse

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