Pray why are you so bare, so bare, Oh, bough of the old oak-tree; And why, when I go through the shade you throw, Runs a shudder over me? My leaves were green as the best, I trow, And sap ran free in my veins, But I saw in the moonli... Read more of The Haunted Oak at Martin Luther King.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Sandy Star I




by: William Stanley Braithwaite

_Sculptured Worship_

The zones of warmth around his heart,
No alien airs had crossed;
But he awoke one morn to feel
The magic numbness of autumnal frost.

His thoughts were a loose skein of threads,
And tangled emotions, vague and dim;
And sacrificing what he loved
He lost the dearest part of him.

In sculptured worship now he lives,
His one desire a prisoned ache;
If he can never melt again
His very heart will break.




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