Nothing but blackness above And nothing that moves but the cars... God, if you wish for our love, Fling us a handful of stars!


MODERN AMERICAN POETRY (ed. 1921)


Nothing but blackness above And nothing that moves but the cars... God, if you wish for our love, Fling us a handful of stars!

Nothing but blackness above And nothing that moves but the cars... God, if you wish for our love, Fling us a handful of stars!

Nothing but blackness above And nothing that moves but the cars... God, if you wish for our love, Fling us a handful of stars!

Nothing but blackness above And nothing that moves but the cars... God, if you wish for our love, Fling us a handful of stars!