In Eden Valley

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I saw
A spray of orange berries etched against the silver of a stone wall:
A scarlet vine encircling a golden sapling;
On the ground, a carmine robe that had slipped from the shoulders of a maple.
A sweep of meadow,
A curve of bronzy hill,
A glow of ruby and amethyst
And the evergreens making deep quiet spots in it.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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