Explore "Francis Turner" by Edgar Lee Masters on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I could not run or play / In boyhood.
In manhood I could only sip the cup, / Not drink --
For scarlet-fever left my heart diseased.
Yet I lie here / Soothed by a secret none but Mary knows:
There is a garden of acacia, / Catalpa trees, and arbors sweet with vines --
There on that afternoon in June / By Mary's side --
Kissing her with my soul upon my lips / It suddenly took flight.