WHEN Mary goes walking The Autumn winds blow, The poplars they curtsey, The larches bend low, The oaks and the beeches Their gold they fling down, To make her a carpet, To make her a crown! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MEMORY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE CONTRETEMPS by THOMAS HARDY STRANGE MEETINGS: 1 by HAROLD MONRO ARCADIA: SESTINA by PHILIP SIDNEY BUBBLING WINE by ABU ZAKARIYYA POEM FOR PICTURE: TO A PORTRAIT BY EDWARD STEICHEN (RACHMANINOFF) by FRANK ANKENBRAND JR. |