'Tis a steep wood of rocks, With the fern grown everywhere; But with no birds -- not a wing! And the falls come down there. Even an Indian trail Would swerve to a haunt so fair! One used to -- there were the ferns And the falls came down there. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LADY'S 'YES' by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING QUATRAIN: FATE by RALPH WALDO EMERSON SONNET: WRITTEN ON THE DAY THAT MR. LEIGH HUNT LEFT PRISON by JOHN KEATS THE CASE OF DOMINEERING JOHN ALEXIS UPHAM by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS SONG FOR THE NEWBORN by MARY HUNTER AUSTIN SUNSET ON THE ORANGE MOUNTAINS by ADRIAN BERKOWITZ SANDY STAR: 5. ONUS PROBANDI by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE |