EXILES

by: Vincent O'Sullivan (1868?-1940)

      HE sick crusader watches
      Through the window the fall of snow;
      She stands under the palm-trees watching
      The slow black caravans go.
       
      She sees him by the window watching
      The vacant snow-flakes fall;
      He sees her in the hot sun standing
      Sorrowful, white, and tall.
       
      She hears him through the snow telling her
      All in his heart to tell--
      Beneath the moveless palm-trees
      In the dead glare at the well.

"Exiles" is reprinted from The Masque of Poets. Ed. Edward J. O'Brien. New York: Dodd, Mead and Company, 1918.

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