Here you will find the Poem L'An Trentiesme De Mon Eage of poet Archibald MacLeish
And I have come upon this place By lost ways, by a nod, by words, By faces, by an old man's face At Morlaix lifted to the birds, By hands upon the tablecloth At Aldebori's, by the thin Child's hands that opened to the moth And let the flutter of the moonlight in, By hands, by voices, by the voice Of Mrs. Whitman on the stair, By Margaret's 'If we had the choice To choose or not - 'through her thick hair, By voices, by the creak and fall Of footsteps on the upper floor, By silence waiting in the hall Between the doorbell and the door, By words, by voices, a lost way - , And here above the chimney stack The unknown constellations sway - And by what way shall I go back?
