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Afternoon on a Hill
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun,
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one.
I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.
And when lights begin to show
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine
And then start down.