
Segment 6912 in The Torn Letter Speed Zone: 140 - 159 WPM
I tore your letter into strips
No bigger than the airy feathers
That ducks preen out in changing weathers
Upon the shifting ripple-tips.
In darkness on my bed alone
I seemed to see you in a vision,
And hear you say: Why this derision
Of one drawn to you, though unknown?
Yes, eve's quick mood had run its course,
The night had cooled my hasty madness;