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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 Young Mother
  2. Bayberry Candles
  3. Secret Laughter
  4. The Wakeful Husband
  5. Light Verse


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