ON the lips of the child Janet float changing dreams. It is a thin spiral of blue smoke, A morning campfire at a mountain lake. On the lips of the child Janet, Wisps of haze on ten miles of corn, Young light blue calls to young light gold of morning. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GATHERING SONG OF DONALD [OR, DONUI DHU] THE BLACK by WALTER SCOTT IN MEMORY OF GENERAL GRANT by HENRY ABBEY DARDANELLES by THEODORE AUBANEL SONNET TO A FRIEND by BERNARD BARTON THREE PASTORAL ELEGIES: 1 by WILLIAM BASSE MISTRESS FATE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET ON THE DEATH OF COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |