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 The Wood Pool by Lucy Maud Montgomery 
						Here is a voice that soundeth low and farAnd lyricÂvoice of wind among the pines,
 Where the untroubled, glimmering waters are,
 And sunlight seldom shines.
 
 Elusive shadows linger shyly here,
 And wood-flowers blow, like pale, sweet spirit-bloom,
 And white, slim birches whisper, mirrored clear
 In the pool's lucent gloom.
 
 Here Pan might pipe, or wandering dryad kneel
 To view her loveliness beside the brim,
 Or laughing wood-nymphs from the byways steal
 To dance around its rim.
 
 'Tis such a witching spot as might beseem
 A seeker for young friendship's trysting place,
 Or lover yielding to the immortal dream
 Of one beloved face.
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