A PALE Italian peasant, Beside the dusty way, Upon this morning pleasant Kneels in the sun to pray. Silent in her devotion, With fervent glance she pleads; Her fingers' only motion, Telling her amber beads. Dreaming of ilex bowers Beyond the purple brine, Once more she sees the flowers Bloom at the wayside shrine. And, while the mad crowd jostles, She, with a visage sweet, Prays where the bisque apostles Are sold on Barclay Street. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RONDEAU by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT STABAT MATER DOLOROSA by JACOPONE DA TODI PURSUIT AND POSSESSION by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE WORD OF SUMMER by ELSA BARKER THE VALLEY OF FERN: PART 2 by BERNARD BARTON RETURN TO TOMHANICK by ANN ELIZA BLEECKER NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE GOLDEN ODES OF PRE-ISLAMIC ARABIA: ZOHEYR by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |