A faded piece of silk,
A worn-out gown,
Saw all we had of friendship
Broken down.
“I meant to give you this,”
You coolly said,
“But it will be soft to mop
The floor instead.”
The stinging words live though
The silk is dust;
The gold I thought too dull
For you, is rust.
Evelyn Coffey
* * * * *
(handwritten on the back of one original, these lines:
Shall be my ode to immortality.
For this, the loveliest of man’s estate
All gladly would I wing the sky to west.)
* * * * *
(handwritten on the back of one original, these lines:
Shall be my ode to immortality.
For this, the loveliest of man’s estate
All gladly would I wing the sky to west.)
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