Newswoman
Withered by frost and heat, patient, too old,
She wears a yellow scarf and strangely cries
The news—a Grecian woman who has told
What different tales beneath what different skies!
I like to think, when in the windy dark
I buy my paper, that the coin shall pay
A certain Ferryman who takes his bark
Across a silent River, for her way.
She wears a yellow scarf and strangely cries
The news—a Grecian woman who has told
What different tales beneath what different skies!
I like to think, when in the windy dark
I buy my paper, that the coin shall pay
A certain Ferryman who takes his bark
Across a silent River, for her way.
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