English poetry

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The Return From Town

As I sat down by Saddle Stream
To bathe my dusty feet there,
A boy was standing on the bridge
Any girl would meet there.

As I went over Woody Knob
And dipped into the hollow,
A youth was coming up the hill
Any maid would follow.

Then in I turned at my own gate,-
And nothing to be sad for-
To such a man as any wife
Would pass a pretty lad for.


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Poem The Return From Town - Edna St Vincent Millay