Poem January 23, 1937 ISSUE

Bartimaeus

DOROTHY LANE DOYLE

Of skies at dawn men's voices tell,Of sun-drenched meadows, blossom bright,Of moonlight's white, enchanted spell—The while he walks through moonless night.

But what is this? Who passes by?Be of good cheer; he calleth thee!In answer to a heart-sent cryHe that was blind is made to see.

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January 23, 1937
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