Into the Boughs…

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Here at the fountain’s sliding foot,

Or at some fruit-tree’s mossy root,

Casting the body’s vest aside,

My soul into the boughs does glide;

There, like a bird, it sits and sing,

Then whets and combs its silver wings,

And, till prepared for longer flight,

Waves in its plumes the various light.

From “The Garden,” by Andrew Marvell (1621-1678)

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0 responses to “Into the Boughs…

  1. Thanks for sharing, Eowyn!!!

  2. Eowyn, you keep giving me wonderful pictures to play with! Here’s a video I did of Kelleigh’s garden.


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