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Late Comers
Oft on my way, my daily task pursuing,
Meet I two fairy figures face to face,
Beauty and Peace, who smile on me, embuing
All else I see with something of their grace.
Not in my youth did I their shapes discover,
Not in those hours of transport and despairs,
Rather they come now that high noon is over,
And like sweet ghosts they make the twilight theirs.
Constant and shy, they seek those spirits only
Who have made silence for their soft behests;
Whose garnished thresholds, welcoming and lonely,
Faithful await the long desired guests.
poem
by
Alice Duer Miller
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