Explore "In Quest" by Georgia Douglas Johnson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
With the first blush of morning, my soul is awing, / Away o'er the phantom lands free, wandering, / I seek thee in hamlet, in woodland, and hall, / Till night-shades, enfolding my tired heart, fall.
Yet ever and alway, like the thrush in a tree, / My heart lifts its preluding love-song to thee; / I call through the days, through the long weary years, / And slumber at night-fall, refreshed by my tears.