Clara Shanafelt

Not much is known about Ms. Shanafelt.

Caprice

Who will be naming the wind That lifts me and leaves me; Swelleth my budding flame, Foully bereaves me? From the land whose forgotten name Man shall not find, Blowest thou, wind? Clara Shanafelt...

By Clara Shanafelt
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14 November

A Vivid Girl

Her face is fair and smooth and fine, Childlike, with secret laughter lit, Drooping in pity, bright with wit, A flower, a flame—God fashioned it. Who sees her tastes the sacred wine. Clara Shanafelt...

By Clara Shanafelt
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19 August

Pastel

She has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness, Like pale streams winding far and hills withdrawn From the bright reaches of the noon. Dawn Is her lifting fancy, but her heart Is orchard boughs and dusk and quietness. Clara Shanafelt...

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10 May

A Gallant Woman

She burst fierce wine From the tough skin of pain, Like wind that wrings from rigid skies A scant and bitter gleam, Has folded all the valleys in. Clara Shanafelt...

By Clara Shanafelt
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04 April