LAGGARD
by: Margaret Widdemer (1884-1978)
 Y mind is very swift and gay;
- She flutters to and fro,
- She knows a thousand things to play,
- A thousand roads to go;
-
- But oh, my heart will never play--
- She sits and watches still
- A stone she saw them set one day
- Beside a low green hill.
|
"Laggard" is reprinted
from The Masque of Poets. Ed. Edward J. O'Brien. New York:
Dodd, Mead and Company, 1918. |
MORE
POEMS BY MARGARET WIDDEMER |
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