Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE MARSHES, by MABEL WARD RUDD First Line: Where, through rank thatch, the grasping sea has put Last Line: To see the last trace of the marshes pass? Subject(s): Birds; Cities; Native Americans; Swamps; Urban Life; Indians Of America; American Indians; Indians Of South America; Bogs; Fens; Marshes | ||||||||
Where, through rank thatch, the grasping sea has put Its wavering arms, the sodden marshes spread Like imprint of an Indian's massive foot, To mark where once the painted warrior sped On sinuous trail across the quivering land. As if some fantasy is now at play, Marsh hay is cocked in stilted mounds, to stand Like Indian wigwams of a former day. A tract, deserted, save when herons wade Or gulls wheel inland from the restless bay To circle where some willow brush has made A hedge or where the doleful rushes sway. Soon, now, the city, in its vigorous growth, Must stretch its body over this morass. Will none but herons and the gulls be loath To see the last trace of the marshes pass? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HANDSOME SWAMP by THOMAS LUX BOGLAND; FOR T.P. FLANAGAN by SEAMUS HEANEY HYMNS OF THE MARSHES: MARSH SONG - AT SUNSET by SIDNEY LANIER HYMNS OF THE MARSHES: SUNRISE by SIDNEY LANIER HYMNS OF THE MARSHES: THE MARSHES OF GLYNN by SIDNEY LANIER MARSH MUSIC by KENNETH SLADE ALLING IN A JON BOAT DURING A FLORIDA DAWN by DAVID BOTTOMS |
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