APRIL IN FOURTH AVENUE
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The shadowing walls of stone-and-granite gloom
Are damp as with the vapors of a tomb; They press me in, my very life to crush And trample under men's convulsive rush. While out beyond, the laughing gardens bloom With flowers woven on the magic loom Of velvet lawns, where leafy lilacs brush The flirting wings of every dallying thrush. And there, O God, not here between these walls, May earth receive me when Thy Spirit calls My soul to dwell in Spring's eternal Room Far out beyond, where laughing gardens bloom With flowers woven on the widening loom Of endless time that spins no death nor doom. |