ALL overgrown with bush and fern, And straggling clumps of tangled trees, With trunks that lean and boughs that turn, Bent eastward by the mastering breeze, -- With spongy bogs that drip and fill A yellow pond with muddy rain, Beneath the shaggy southern hill Lies wet and low the Shawmut plain. And hark! the trodden branches crack; A crow flaps off with startled scream; A straying woodchuck canters back; A bittern rises from the stream; Leaps from his lair a frightened deer; An otter plunges in the pool; -- Here comes old Shawmut's pioneer, The parson on his brindled bull! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUMMER. THE SECOND PASTORAL, OR ALEXIS by ALEXANDER POPE EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 4. THE TIMOROUS ADVENTURER by PHILIP AYRES YOUR TREASURE by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON THERE'LL NEVER BE PEACE TILL JAMIE COMES HAME by ROBERT BURNS TO FLORENCE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |