At The Next Table

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Title:     At The Next Table
Author: David Morton [More Titles by Morton]

O, Lady like a tea-cup,
A flower, or a fan,
What dear, archaic fancy
Devised you as it ran
Through gone Arcadian summers
Of sweet and gentle airs,
Of roses at the casement,
And slippers on the stairs?
O, Lady like a poem
Out of the olden time,
Be now the fading pattern
Of this archaic rhyme.

[The end]
David Morton's poem: At The Next Table

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